


Wolf Hunt

by iidellikki



Series: Stella De'Argento Legacy [3]
Category: Galebound (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iidellikki/pseuds/iidellikki
Summary: A troubled youth from the slums of Ennara learns he is the bastard child of the nobleman Louvel Karolis. Follow Wulfric as he navigates the cruel fate of his birth, while also juggling the demand of the upperclass life.
Series: Stella De'Argento Legacy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572961
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Galebound belongs to Respheal [https://www.galebound.com]  
> My work is a sandbox fiction taking place in a fictional location while exploring the Galebound universe.

He still couldn’t believe how soft fresh bread was. It was nice not having to crunch on something that tried to rip into his gums or having to find some type of liquid to soften it. After a moment of enjoying the loaf he paused to glare at the bread.

Wulfric’s frown strained to a thin line, fingers digging to break through the crust. After he ripped the loaf in two in his underlying rage, he shoved half of it into his satchel before he stood. He needed to find his next target, not marvel over the stolen prize he had managed from the baker’s shelf.

He bustled down towards the thickest part of Ennara. It was a large city square, and every morning the farmer’s brought out their goods to sell through the year. The Great Harvest was upon them, which meant the wider yearly variety thanks to just enough favorable conditions between nature and the local magicians. It was practically a festival, the way everyone treated it. People would be bartering to stock larders, meaning plenty of pockets ripe for the picking. He was so close to meeting what was needed for the ‘protection fee’ due at the end of the week.

With the harvest in full swing, not as many people were seeking the carnal pleasures with how exhausted they are after working a full day in the fields between selling. It should even out soon and return to normal, but it was still a problem now and he had been out overnight for three days so he could snag prime targets: People too busy to watch their purses and people too drunk to care nor remember.

The procurer was making her rounds tonight and his mother hadn’t managed to get the money they needed on her own. If they didn’t make the money his mother would be beaten by the procurer’s goons just like she had been last week when she was only a little behind.

Except this time-

The shadows ahead caused his heart to skip a beat. They stretched just like that night. The panting on his neck, the twist of his arm behind his back, the smell-

He struck out, kicking over a bin with all his might. Teeth gritting, back taught, he spun, ready to lash out-

The old farmer blinked in confusion at the sudden rage as the bin crashed at his legs. “Hey! Watch what you’re doing!”

The tension in Wulfric’s chest made it hard to breathe properly. Rapid eyes darted from the bin to the farmer and back before he turned his head to look around. He wasn’t in that stuffy, scarcely lit spare room at one of Oda’s quick stops for temporary relief, but had been walking along the side of the main street heading to the heart of Ennara. Quick to pull the hood further over his face, he jogged away from the farmer without looking back.

The scent - it was the Gale forsaken scent again. So many people smelled of body odor and dirt after a hard day’s work, and many of them smelled exactly like they did. He needed the memories to stop and the panic to quell so he could steal something of value without getting caught.

He would not be put in that position again if he could help it.

* * *

Oda’s smoking had already filled the room with a terrible stench by the time Wulfric arrived home. He really didn’t feel like getting hit with her jewel-encrusted cane for pointing out something ‘exotic’ and ‘cost a lot’ smelled like the back end of a pig.

“I see your boy is gettin’ up there,” Oda complimented, as much as one could count that as a compliment from the old bat. Wulfric dug out the coin purse and tossed it to the large goon who stood as large as he could behind Oda’s seat.

“Yes, his sixteenth birthday had passed recently…” His mother, Melissa, wrung her hands. Her eyes never left Oda; not even to address her son’s return.

“C’mere, boy,” Oda snapped her ring dressed fingers.

Wulfric’s jaw tightened, glaring defiantly as he did not move.

Oda’s old face seemed to carry more wrinkles as she frowned. She lifted her hand towards her goon, middle finger and thumb pressed together while staring Wulfric down.

If she snapped, he was going to be forced over by that lunk head of a guard, and probably a good scuffing afterwards.

Her pleased, triumphant smile really got under his skin as he stepped forward. “That’s a good lad. Now,” she stood up to be at closer height to him, catching his jaw. Her nails dug roughly into his skin as his head was forced this way and that. “He has your thin face, unfortunately, but those eyes are quite fetching. You could clean up pretty good. That skin color will fool people into thinking you see more sun than you actually do.”

Wulfric really felt like biting the thumb that traced up his cheek. He knew this look, that assessment of worth. She always reevaluated him whenever she felt the need to personally attend payday instead of sending a goon. With how old she looked he hoped she would croak soon, but with his luck she’d find a way to out-live the entirety of Ennara by hundreds of years by sucking everyone dry.

“He’s old enough to start working more regularly,” Oda released him, turning her attention to Melissa as Wulfric retreated to her side.

“It hasn’t come to that!” Melissa protested. “H-he paid you the rest of our debt, didn’t he?” She looked desperately up to her son, firmly gripping his hand.

Oda clicked her pipe against her teeth prior to taking the coin purse and count out the contents. With the proper amount there, she tucked the coins into her own purse, discarding Wulfric’s on the floor.

“Yes, it seems so. Of course, you’re not working with anyone else, are you?”

“No, _Madam_ ,” Wulfric defensively snapped. He didn’t like working under her thumb, he wouldn’t ever work for another procurer.

“Good. Keep it that way. ‘Cause if you’re working for someone else but living in my territory? I’ll make sure you pay me back double everything you ever earned.” Oda brushed off her skirts before fixing her boa. “Well, once you start falling behind, there will be an open spot for you, Wulfric. You pleased quite a few customers this last time.” She finally began for the door. “Of course, you can’t keep covering your mothers failing with petty pickpocketing.”

Melissa’s grip tightened on her son as she felt him tense up. “Yes, of course, we’ll keep it in mind, Madam Oda, thank you.”

Wulfric could hardly contain himself the second the door was shut behind them. “Really, mom?!” He whirled on her, yanking his arm away from her grip.

“Wulfric, please.”

“I will not go back to work with her!”

“Wulfric-”

“I’ll kill myself before I let-”

“Wulfric!” Melissa caught his shoulders and gave him a firm shake, “Please don’t speak like that!”

“Why not?! Just because you’re the one afraid to die doesn’t mean I am!”

“Wulfric, we’ve been over this!” She released his shoulders to grab his face. “I would have killed you myself if I felt it was truly the right answer, but it’s not! You must live, Wulfric, live despite all of this!”

Wulfric sneered, his body shaking in rage. “What kind of mother would let her kids go through this?”

He pulled away, ignoring the hurt in his mother’s eyes as he stormed across the room to the wardrobe. He banged on it twice in passing before finally discarding his satchel on the bed.

* * *

A few hours ago, before the procurer’s lackeys were due to arrive, their weekly routine was in play for payday.

Yvette had to do it every week like clockwork. She made sure to take her pillow and her bear and climbed into the wardrobe. She propped the pillow against the back so she could hide with some comfort, pulling the dresses over to curtain herself.

“Can you see me, momma?”

Melissa paused in her cleaning to look over. She had been fretting again, her eyes seemed sunken, and very dark. Yvette was always so sure momma was so pretty, but she always looked so, so tired with her thin frame.

“Your skirt is sticking out, dear.”

“Oh,” Yvette quickly brushed her skirt and fixed the dresses more. “Now?”

“Much better. Remember, no matter what you hear, be-”

“Be absolutely silent. Don’t worry momma, Wulfric told me, remember?”

Melissa smiled sadly before shutting the wardrobe.

Yvette fidgeted to get comfortable, cradling her old teddy bear for support. The dark made her nervous, but it was safe. It was always safe to hide here, the dark kept her away from Oda’s people.

Well, from her understanding it wasn’t Oda herself to be afraid of. It was what she represented. Momma feared her and rightfully so because Oda was cruel and wicked. She made momma perform for men and lots of them.

Some men were okay by Yvette’s standards from what little she’s met in passing. They were the ones allowed to make what momma called ‘house visits’, but Yvette had to go out to play, or hide in the wardrobe if it was too late and Wulfric wasn’t home.

They never liked talking to her, though, so she always felt awkward around them.

She thought, perhaps, one could be their new pappa.

Momma said no man who would sleep with her in such a way would make a good pappa.

Yvette and Wulfric never knew their pappas, though, so Yvette wasn’t sure what made a good pappa. She understood that they didn’t have the same one, either. It was just Yvette, Wulfric, and Momma, and that was okay most days.

Then there were the bad men, the ones momma never wanted her to be seen by. They hurt momma, they bruise and bloody her. But they paid, they always paid.

One didn’t, she remembered, because Wulfric went to make him pay. Momma was so upset he did it. She was so scared he was going to be taken away, but nothing ever came of it.

Momma always said she was such a pretty girl with her dark hair and light skin, that her blue eyes reminded her of her childhood home by the sea. But that was why Oda could never know, Momma says. If Oda knew, she would use that beauty, and men would pay a lot for it, so they vowed to keep her safe, locked away from that part of their lives.

Yvette never liked the sound of it and Wulfric was always so commanding about it. He was smarter than momma, Yvette felt. Momma meant well, but she was always so scared. Wulfric wasn’t scared and he was clever sometimes. He couldn’t always fight, but he found ways around things to make it work.

He used to always watch Yvette when she was a baby, but she didn’t remember that, but she did remember when he told her that any time Oda or her lackies were coming she had to hide in the wardrobe and remain absolutely silent no matter what she heard. She could come out when she heard two loud knocks.

For the last three years it’s worked pretty well. She hated the dark, but it was her known safety. She was always a good girl and would never make a sound. She’s heard some things, like talking, often arguing and pleading. A few times she heard her momma, and Wulfric, get a beating. A few times they took Wulfric away after the beatings, but he always came back so hurt and angry. She hated when they took him away.

Hearing the rapid knock on their little shack’s door caused her to jump before she buried her face into her pillow, readying to play the quiet game.

“Oh, Melissa, business must be slow if you can keep your house this clean. Or have you finally been putting that boy of yours to work?”

“Madam Oda! I-it’s such a pleasure, I thought it was just going to be one of your-.”

“Well it’s been a few months, and you’ve been struggling on and off so I thought I’d come see how one of my oldest girls are holding up.”

“O-of course. Would you like any refreshments?”

Oda’s laugh sounded more like a bark than a laugh and it sent shivers down Yvette’s spine. “I know you don’t have anything. No, lets go ahead and count the money.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Yvette really hated how afraid her momma sounded. Where was Wulfric? He hasn’t been home in days. He promised he would never leave without her. She never knew what Wulfric did for work but she always feared when he was gone too long. What if he got hurt? Wulfric didn’t have an older brother to care for him. He took care of them so much-

“You’re short.”

“Madam, please, Wulfric will be here soon with the rest of the payment-”

“I do hope so. Though, depending on how short you are after his arrival, I know a particularly rich gentleman who has been calling after him. Lets just hope he doesn’t keep us waiting.”

Yvette clung harder to her pillow. What did that mean, exactly?

Was a rich man wanting to take Wulfric away?

She wouldn’t let him!

But what could she do? She was just a little girl.

Her fear would begin to ebb in the darkness with the droll of the conversation about the happenings in town.

The front door being opened stirred her from her dozing.

“I see your boy is gettin’ up there,” Oda’s voice was amused.

Wulfric was home!

Yvette sat up, listening as the conversation unfolded. Oda trying to encourage Wulfric frustrated Yvette. Why did she want to take him away so badly? She was so happy to hear Oda leave, but it didn’t last long as shortly after Wulfric and momma started arguing.

Wulfric was always mad about something. He and momma never saw eye to eye.

Yvette clung desperately to her bear. She wanted to scream out to break up the fight. She didn’t want to hear Wulfric talk about killing himself. If he killed himself he’d leave her!

But she couldn’t speak. Wulfric said she couldn’t. She had to stay silent. So biting back tears, she buried her face into her bear.

Suddenly two bangs on the wardrobe.

She could come out now!

She carefully creaked open the door, peeking out to see momma sitting in her old armchair looking quite defeated. Wulfric was getting changed by the bed they all shared.

Since Wulfric was busy, she crawled out fully to go to her mother’s side.

“Momma, will Wulfric have to leave?”

“No, honey, he doesn’t have to leave,” Melissa encouraged gently, picking up her daughter to set her on her lap so she may embrace her tightly. Yvette felt her shaking, so she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and buried her face into her neck.

“It’s okay, momma. We’ll be okay.”

The sudden rapid knocking on the door startled them all. Melissa quickly swooped Yvette back into the wardrobe.

Wulfric yanked open the door once Yvette was tucked away to find some pompously dressed upperclassmen’s messenger, but not one he recognized.

“Yes?”

“I have a message for Miss Drasa,” the man showed his letter, sealed with a wax crest.

“Ah, I’ll take it for her,” Wulfric offered, but the messenger snapped it away from his reach.

“I’m afraid I must hand it to Miss Drasa herself.”

“It’s okay, Wulfric,” Melissa encouraged, gently pressing him to head back into the home. “I’m Melissa Drasa, I’ll accept the message.”

The messenger happily handed it over. “My lord is expecting a response, so if you will…?”

Melissa hesitated before reviewing the crest. Her body tensed tightly, before she broke the crest and opened it.

Wulfric watch as his mother paled the longer she read, before looking nervously to Wulfric.

“I-I see…” Her gaze lingered worriedly on Wulfric before she returned her attention to the messenger. “I-...I accept Lord Karolis’ terms…”

“Yes, Miss.” The messenger bowed deeply before he turned, walking briskly away into the night.

Wulfric scoffed as the door shut. “You know if you charge the ones with more money then you do the others, you wouldn’t struggle as much.” He knocked twice before helping Yvette out of her wardrobe.

“It wasn’t a john, Wulfric.” Melissa’s tone was unusually firm for once, catching Wulfric a bit off guard.

“Oh, then who was it?”

Melissa hesitated nervously, rereading the message in her hands before she folded it up tightly.

“Lord Louvel Karolis is your father, Wulfric, and he wants you to come live with him from now on.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean you have _a son_?!”

Ariane was snapped out of her stunned silence by her mother's shrill voice.

Louvel continued his meal as if the news he’d shared merely mentioned the conditions of the weather. “It is nothing to get so angry over.”

“Oh, it’s not?” Edith’s rage dripped off every word, as she strained to maintain her composure.

“It takes care of all the problems we have been having.”

Edith sucked air in through her teeth before her chair scraped a bit against the hardwood, indicating her turning in it. “You! Please, escort Ariane out with her dinner. She may eat in her room while her father and I have words.”

The servant quickly sought a tray to gather Ariane’s meal.

“But, mother-”

“Ariane now is _not the time_ ,” Edith forced out through gritted teeth, eyes locking on her unfaithful husband as he nonchalantly gulped down his wine.

Ariane reluctantly rose to gather her cane and turned to leave the room. The servant opened the door to help her out before quickly heading to her room with the dinner tray.

As the door shut behind her, Ariane stopped in the hall.

“When did this happen?” Ariane could hear her mother’s voice clear through the door.

“It was about two years before you were pregnant with Ariane.”

“You did this while we were wed?!”

Ariane quirked her head slightly before a gentle tap rapped on the door next to her ear.

“It’s really improper for young ladies to eavesdrop, Miss Karolis.” Nazaire, the family’s Magician, could always be found in the hall during the dinner hours, waiting for Lord Karolis to be free. Ariane’s father often wished to speak to him in his study before returning for the evening.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, merely thinking,” Ariane quietly retorted, fingers gliding over the thin handle of her cane. “... Nazaire, did you know father had a son?”

Nazaire listened to the argument that was getting louder in the dining room for a moment before he turned his attention back to Ariane. “I do now,” he smiled regretfully. “Come, I will escort you to your room.”

Ariane reluctantly thanked him before reaching out for his arm that she knew he had offered, as he always had for as long as she could remember. Most things in her life were routine to keep her safe from accidents. Even the house was kept in a specific order, with no rugs to trip on, nor any particular fancy woodwork in the furniture that could snag her skirts and pull her down. Even Nazaire’s politeness, somehow, felt routine.

At least this routine had a comfort to it.

“Has father always been unfaithful to mother?”

Nazaire took a deep breath. “I had suspicions a few times with how he carried about certain businesses, but I was never privy to those ventures in entirety, so I could never be certain.”

“Would you have told mother if you were?”

“If I were not obligated? Yes, I would have.” Nazaire was a father of two grown children who served other houses in the upper class. His wife had passed on a few years ago to illness, but he had always been a faithful and loving husband and father. His personal code was, ‘If you bind yourself to one, then within your power you stay bound in all ways.’

It had come up fairly recently, as Louvel had begun searching for suitors for Ariane. She was only fourteen, but Louvel wanted a future husband selected as soon as possible. He felt his daughter was not fit to take on the responsibilities of the family estate and business.

Ariane had sought advice from Nazaire as she knew he had been through an arranged marriage. She had asked him what it was like to be married, and his response was nothing but love and joy. She could only imagine his expression as she heard the pride in his voice. It was nice listening to the love he felt for his wife and children. Ariane had never met his family, as she was much too young when they were growing up. Noble children posed too much of a risk to Magicians, after all.

“I see… thank you, Nazaire. You are a good man,” Ariane angled her head to try to make sure he could see she was smiling for him.

Nazaire chuckled deeply, patting her hand that rested on his arm. “No worries, my young lady. I have served the Karolis family loyally since your father was your age, and I will continue to do so until my retirement.”

Ariane beamed. “Hopefully that retirement isn’t too soon. I don’t know what I would do without your guidance.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. I will make sure the next magician to grace these halls will serve you and your needs as well as I.”

She knew it wasn’t just a platitude. She had learned the power of her words around Magicians, and she always made sure to be careful. Nazaire, as far as she knew, was always well taken care of. Her father bragged how close friends they were, and while at times she could hear Nazaire disappointed in some of her father’s antics, he did seem to genuinely love to serve the family as much as she could tell.

He was especially kind to her. She liked to pretend he was an older uncle, one she could sneak to, to ask advice on topics her parents felt she was too young, or too improper for a lady, to know.

He recommended she take a hobby after years of struggling through the rigorous courses to build her into a favorable future wife to some upper-class man. A hobby her mother absolutely couldn’t stand. It was a servant’s work to sit and spin all day.

It had taken her a couple of years to finally get the hang of it, but Ariane deeply enjoyed spinning. She was much better by hand than when she worked with a wheel, but that was because it was much easier to tell if you messed up when the thread separates and the spindle falls. Besides, she could sneak her supplies into a bag and work on it anywhere in the house.

Nazaire slowed down so he could safely open the door without risking hitting Ariane, before escorting her into her room. She released him and carefully moved toward her desk, taking the same path she’d learned over the years of measured steps, where she could smell her dinner had been placed.

“Thank you, Nazaire.”

“Of course, my lady. Should you need anything, please call for me.”

“I will, but I should be fine, thank you.” Ariane smiled warmly towards him before feeling her plate so she could continue with her dinner.

She was able to hear the arguing any time it crescendoed through the night. She was deeply concerned about it all. She loved her parents and while they sometimes argued, particularly about her, it was never this bad; and for her father to have betrayed her mother as he had? It hurt.

She tried to think positively as she prepped for bed and curled up with one of her pillows. _She had an older brother now_! She had always wanted a sibling, but her parents were very adamant about not risking another child after the complications of Ariane’s childhood.

Eventually, her mind buzzed with exciting questions and optimism, and she eased into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Ariane was quick to get ready the next morning. Her usual dressing servant was in and helped with untangling her long, blonde hair, as well as straightening up for the morning. After all of this was done, Ariane was able to go to breakfast.

Taking her seat, she listened carefully for her parents.

The dining hall was oddly silent.

After a moment longer she tilted her head. “Are my parents not coming?”

A servant hummed a bit in thought as he placed a meal in front of her, everything in its exact place as it had been every day since she was able to sit at the table. “I’m afraid not, miss. Your parents have both requested their meals in their rooms this morning. Would you like yours in your bedroom, too?”

“Oh… no, no thank you. I can eat here.” Ariane hid her disappointment the best she could.

She set about eating quietly, becoming lost in her thoughts. _Why weren’t her parents here?_ The best she could come up with was their arguments had ended with them both mad at one another, and they did not want to risk running into each other for a while longer.

Still, while she could understand that, she did not like that it left her alone.

The dining room doors slammed open and caused Ariane to jump in her seat.

“Ariane, there you are!” Her mother sounded exhausted. “I wasn’t aware you had already gone to breakfast.”

Ariane, relieved, reached for her mother. “Did I wake up too early?”

“Oh, I suppose it’s fine. I am a bit tired myself.” She took her daughter’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze before she sat next to her, waving to a servant dismissively. “I’ve already eaten this morning at least. I needed something light for today’s meeting.”

“Meeting?”

“Oh, right, of course. You weren’t here for the whole conversation last night, were you?” She gave a supportive pat to Ariane’s shoulder. “Your father’s son will be here this afternoon to meet the family. It seems your father has invited him to stay and he has agreed.”

Ariane perked slightly, twirling her spoon between two fingers. “Oh? That could be lovely.”

“Ariane, dear,” Her mother chuckled darkly. “This couldn’t be any sort of lovely.”

“But I always wanted a sibling.”

“Yes, darling, but he is a threat to your _future_. Your father only wants him brought in to train him to become heir to the house.” Her tone was condescending, as usual.

“Why is that a bad thing? I don’t even want-”

“Ariane, you listen to me.” Her mother’s hand returned to her shoulder and squeezed it firmly. “You will be the heiress to this estate. We have worked far too hard, and too long for you to be cast aside because your _father_ feels your blindness is a weakness.”

“Mother-”

“Ah-ah. Did I say to listen?”

Silence fell between them. Ariane could feel her mother’s intense gaze on her. Slowly, she nodded in compliance. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, I expect you to keep your distance from this boy. I don’t imagine he can handle the upper class life. It’s quite a bit more rigorous than those of the lower classes are used to dealing with. No sense in raising his hopes over nothing.”

Ariane nodded solemnly.

“That’s a good girl. Finish up your meal, and go have your hair redone and pick out a nicer dress. You need to stand out as the heiress that you are, and that you will not tolerate him trying to swoop in to take your position.”

“Of course, mother.”

Her mother left, meaning Ariane was alone again. She was now more miserable than she had been before her mother arrived. All she wanted was a sibling. She thought this would be a wonderful adventure. She didn’t even want to be the heiress!

One of her servants redid her hair and helped her in finer clothing before she sat out in the garden for the day. Apparently, her mother forbade them from allowing her to spin before the meeting. Nazaire at least came to give her company, reading to her from one of his books until she was gathered to go with her mother to her half-brother’s arrival.

Edith was tense at Ariane’s side while they waited. _He had arrived_ , a servant told them, and she could almost feel her mother’s anger radiating off her.

They would follow her father out, but lingering behind. Ariane held on to her mother’s arm the entire time. She was not allowed a cane during such showings.

“My, my, my! You’ve seemed to get the best looks from both your parents,” Louvel laughed, quite pleased with how everything was turning out. Both hands on his son’s shoulders, he patted them firmly. “Nice and strong, and still growing I imagine! A bit too skinny, but we’ll get meat on you no worries there, I imagine!”

“Yeah. Pleased to meet you.”

Her half-brother didn’t sound pleased. He sounded angry.

Judging by the quickened steps, her- _their_ father was encouraging the boy to the women.

“This is my lovely wife, Edith.”

“ _Lady_ Edith Karolis.” Her voice was haughty yet firm as she offered her hand gracefully out to the boy who ignored it, earning a huff of displeasure from Edith.

“Yes, _Lady_ ,” Louvel agreed with a dismissive brush of his wife, “And this is my beautiful daughter, your half sister, Ariane. Say hello to your brother, Wulfric, Ariane.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Wulfric.”


	3. Chapter 3

“What do you mean, my dad?” Wulfric inquired cautiously. His anger had disappeared by the time Yvette clambered onto the bed next to him, also confused by the mention of Wulfric’s father.

Melissa hesitated before turning her back to her children, locking up the door for the night and setting about chores.

Wulfric watched her eagerly, draping an arm around Yvette as she got comfortable. “...Mom?”

Melissa didn’t answer as she pulled the curtains closed.

“Mom, what do you mean?” Wulfric insisted in a firmer tone.

“Wulfric, I can’t explain it any clearer than I have.”

Wulfric wanted to chase after her to corner her but with Yvette’s head in his lap, he didn’t want to get up, effectively anchoring him. “How is Lord Karolis my father?”

Melissa threw open the wardrobe doors, rooting through the clothing as she pointedly kept her back to him. “You know how children are born, Wulfric.”

Wulfric frowned, eyes falling to the ground. Every question he had was muddled by all of the thoughts that flew through his mind. He couldn't figure out how he was feeling. He couldn’t make sense of it all. Even if Lord Karolis was indeed his father, why now?

“I’m not going.”

Melissa paused from drawing clothing out of the wardrobe, looking back finally as she tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You have to.”

“No, I don’t. He’s not my dad. He didn’t raise me.” Wulfric’s brushed his hand through Yvette’s hair, watching her as she quietly hid behind the worn-out bear that she clung to.

“Wulfric, he’s wanting you to come. He’ll take you away from this life.” Melissa insisted, tucking the clothing in one arm. She came to sit by Wulfric’s free side, carefully straightening his hair. “You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“Yeah, right,” Wulfric scoffed. “And what about Yvette and you? I’m pretty sure the invitation doesn’t include you two.”

Melissa took Wulfric’s hand, squeezing lightly. “We’ll get by, Wulfric. But if you can get out of this life, you should.”

“Funny how when I was willing to _end_ this life as a quick out, you were against it,” Wulfric snapped, yanking his hand from hers. He moved Yvette from his lap so as not to drag her off the bed with him as he stood.

“Wulfric that’s different, you’ll get to _live_ this way!”

“And how do you know it won’t be a different hell?!” Wulfric angrily spun on her. “Because I remember some of the rich johns who you’ve gone to see; how bruised you were when you came back! I remember how one liked to-” He cut off as the shadows clouded his vision and he stepped back, slapping a hand over his eyes as he took a sharp intake of breath.

He was back in that room. That cologne stood out against the smell the others had. That raspy voice in his ear. That sickening laughter that filled him with dread as his throat was clenched tightly, the sensation he needed to fight for his life was so overwhelming. The sickening glee in those ethereal blue eyes.

He could barely hear someone else’s voice in those shadows for a moment, until a sudden grab of his shoulders sharpened his senses and he struck out.

His mother’s cry startled him. He was back in their home and his mother was turned partially away, hand over her face.

“Wulfric,” She spoke softly, fixing her hair as she tried to hide the fear in her voice. He could still see how she began to tremble.

Anger clenched tightly in his heart as the panic tried to rise in his chest. Suddenly, he ran to the door, fumbling to get the locks open. Once the door was open he was sprinting off before his mother’s pleas ever got to him.

Panic gripped his heart and made him acutely aware of everything he was dashing by, but the conflicting anger made everything clouded simultaneously. He knew, and yet could not tell, what things were and the growing response to flee or strike it away was hard to shake off. He prayed he’d come across some drunkard whom he could take his emotions out on. Just one slip up, and he could get the ache out of his muscles and the whirlwind out of his mind.

Luck wasn’t with him this night, and after roaming the slums for an hour, his panic had ebbed away leaving him with anger and desolation.

If he didn’t go to the Karolis estate tomorrow, what would happen? Would he be hunted down and forced to go? He’d heard how much power Nobles had, and while he wasn’t sure if Lord Karolis was a Noble or just upper class, he still knew how much power _money_ held. No one would stop personal guards stealing someone from the slums. It was one less person to worry about on the streets.

“Wulfric?” Yvette peeked from around a corner up ahead.

“Yvette, what are you doing out here?” Wulfric grumbled, his worries temporarily dissipating as he came over to make sure she was okay. How long had she been following after him?

“I was scared…” Yvette hid her face behind her bear, coming out of the shadows to cling to her brother’s hand.

“Go home, Yvette, it’s not safe out here.” He might as well have kicked her with the despair she seemed to respond with. Tears welled up in her eyes and she whimpered softly. He sighed heavily after she had let go of his hand. “Wait. Nevermind, Yvette, you can stay. You’d be safer with me than going home alone anyway.”

Yvette sniffled and returned to his side to be picked up and carried wherever Wulfric was planning to wander.

They travelled in silence for a long while. Wulfric wasn’t sure what to say as his troubles began to seep back into his mind. Yes, he may be able to escape this, but what about Yvette? If she were found by Oda, she’d be taken immediately to be used for her sick clientele.

“Do you really have to go?” Yvette finally broke the silence.

Wulfric really hated that question. “I guess so.”

“Can’t I come?”

He hated that question more. “No, you can’t.”

“But who will protect me?” Yvette whimpered.

“I can still protect you, don’t worry.” Wulfric stroked her hair before finding a small stone terrace they could sit on.

“Are you sure?” Yvette climbed into his lap once he sat down, and hid in his arms.

Truthfully, Wulfric wasn’t sure. Anything could happen while he wasn’t there. He only managed a weak nod as he held his sister tightly. “If anything happens and I’m not there, you come find me, okay? Anything you gotta do, do it.”

Yvette nodded, though her yawn reminded him how late it was. He scooped her up to carry her home. On the way he promised he would visit and, one day, take her away from all of it too so she wouldn’t have to worry about Oda or anything else.

He hoped it was a nice enough thought for her as she drifted to sleep on his shoulder.

* * *

The next morning he silently dressed himself in the best clothing he had. It wasn’t much but better than the simple tunics he usually wore. He loathed it, considering it was ‘a gift’ from someone through Oda. He wanted to burn it, but his mother insisted he still needed to make a good impression.

Why make an impression when someone is forcing you to begin with?

He didn’t want to admit fear.

He didn’t want to leave.

He most certainly refused to cry as his mother clung to him in an embrace he scarcely allowed. Yvette’s embrace was incredibly hard, and she refused to let go when it was time for him to leave.

He hated all of this. He was determined to keep himself rooted in that hatred. If he strayed out of it, he would break. If for no one else but Yvette, he would use that hatred to keep strong, no matter how much it twisted his insides.

The whirlwind of negative emotions churned into the familiar anger he relied on as he stood outside the Karolis estate. He only had a small bag of things over his shoulder, and he imagined even if he’d been clad in finer wool, he would still be quite a sight for the guards, who weren’t hiding how they were sizing him up.

_They think I’m trying to scope the place out._

“Karolis estate, right?” Wulfric locked eyes with the more bolder guard who didn’t hide his gaze too well.

“Yes it is.”

“I’m Wulfric. Lord Karolis sent for me.” He thrust the letter at them, just missing smacking the guard on the nose with it.

With a quick flick the guard snatched the letter and read it. He didn’t conceal his surprise as he nodded to the other guard. “Let him in. I’ll go inform his lordship.”

As the first guard disappeared towards the house, the second pushed the large iron gate open. Slipping in, Wulfric now had an unimpeded view of the estate. It was excessive. The largest building itself was vast, and it seemed to hold two wings attached to it on either side. How much of the slums could comfortably fit here? _And the details_. All the trimming and stone work was artfully and meticulously placed. Even the windows held designs in them.

It made him tense. They expected him to live in _this_?

No one should live in this. It was just a giant mar on the landscape to mark one’s ego - or, he supposed, perhaps a family’s ego. After all, he didn’t know much about the Karolis family other than they owned the mining company that functioned south of the capital and seemed to live a very gaudy lifestyle.

 _Very_ gaudy, he realized, when a fat man overdressed in the Karolis family’s colors stepped through the doors. The man wore far too many ornaments, and jingled as he stepped toward Wulfric. It was then that he realized, this was none other than Lord Louvel Karolis.

Louvel was two inches shorter than Wulfric, but he could see they had the same green eyes and darker complexion. The idea _this_ was his father made his skin crawl. The complement of taking the best features from both his parents really didn’t sit well with him either.

Edith, Louvel’s wife, was exactly what Wulfric imagined every high class woman would look like. Not a single hair was out of place as it was pinned up in an elegant fashion, holding hair ornaments that matched a very elaborately decorated dress. Wulfric swore he’d seen that pattern on Oda’s couch at her office.

Edith looked like she had sucked on a lemon. Her eyes were narrowed, not at all hiding her disgust. Well, that was fine, Wulfric could play the same game of not liking her.

His half-sister, however, was a different story. Next to Edith, Ariane was very much over-shadowed. Even though she carried herself like a member of the upper classes, she lacked the presence of her mother. She was a beautiful young girl, carefully groomed for her role he surmised, but it didn’t seem to suit her. She faked it well, but it was a familiar look he knew well in her brow, and her eyes-

Which were not focusing on him as she greeted him.

Despite having just ignored Edith’s greeting, he gently took Ariane’s hand, unsure what was proper. He remembered scenes in plays Yvette and he snuck into, or extravagant suitors on the street, or the occasional bard, but was that actually what he was expected to do? And even if it’s his sister?

Instead he just gently squeezed her hand, “A pleasure, Ariane,” he echoed.

“See? They’re getting along already!” Louvel chuckled.

Wulfric caught Edith’s dark glare at her husband as she pulled Ariane a step back, forcing the siblings to break their grasp. Ariane staggered to catch onto her mother’s arm so as not to fall.

“ _Come,_ Ariane. Let us ladies retire so the men may get to know one another.”

“We’ll see you two at dinner, then?” Louvel called in a tone that sounded polite, but most definitely was not a request. Wulfric’s suspicions were confirmed with Edith’s annoyed huff as she marched her daughter away from them, practically dragging her by her arm.

Wulfric didn’t get to watch them long as Louvel hefted an arm around his shoulders and led him in the opposite direction. “Come! Let me show you around!”

* * *

Show him around he did. Just about every inch of the estate in fact, excluding the west wing where ‘the ladies were sure to be’, which happened to be comprised of private studies and bedrooms. It was a very long tour, where Louvel boasted of their family heritage. His great-grandfather before him had advocated to the King for laws that benefited the family’s business, which resulted in lucrative returns. His grandmother had an army of children, which she used to revolutionize the mining industry of their area. His father before Louvel held a political seat after reworking the company to be able to run without needing an heir’s constant oversight.

Now that last one in particular Wulfric was skeptical about, but Louvel certainly seemed to believe it as he spoke, being able to just sit back and enjoy life thanks to the work of his family.

“This is why when you become head of house, you won’t need to worry so much about the operations of the business and such.” Louvel stopped at the bar in his personal study, pouring himself a drink.

“When _I_ become head?” Wulfric frowned at the glass he had been handed and held it a bit away from himself. He really detested anything that made him feel as if he lacked any sort of control.

“Why yes. You don’t think this is just charity work, do you?” Louvel chuckled before taking a swig from his glass. “I need an heir, a strong one.”

“What about Ariane?”

“Now don’t get me wrong. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and will make someone an excellent bride, and perhaps even an amazing mother with the right help one day. But she doesn’t have the head for, well, all this.” Louvel gestured grandly about the room. “Even if you just sit back to enjoy it, the head of the house still has a lot of responsibilities!” He was so happy to be speaking of the process, he never once seemed to register Wulfric’s disdain for the entire thing.

It drove him mad. This house was filled to the brim with signs of fortune, the finery, the trophies and ornaments on the walls and ceiling. You could dismantle the entire estate and distribute it through the capitol, and there wouldn’t be a hungry soul for quite a time. Even afterward, there’d be money to spare.

And that he could just sit all day and inherit that money.

The waste infuriated him. The least the man could be doing is work for it, or doing something with it, rather than living in wasted extravagance.

“What will happen to Ariane if I become head?”

Louvel paused, a bit surprised his son was so blunt, to just interrupt his very important detailing of the roles he would eventually be expected to fill. He finally smiled and slammed back the rest of his drink, setting the glass on the bar. “My boy, there is no if, but when. And Ariane may be your sister but she is my daughter, you leave that all up to me.”

“What do you have planned for her?”

“Oh well, currently, I am looking into potential future suitors for her,” Louvel swiped Wulfric’s untouched glass to knock it back. “Hopefully one with good blood to fix whatever problems her mother’s line caused.”

“You mean her blindness?” Wulfric was glad to have the glass out of his hands but really wished the man would stop putting his arm over his shoulders like they were old friends.

“So you spotted that, eh?” Louvel smiled a bit bitterly as he set the empty glass next to his first. “Such a shame, too, but she could be taken advantage of with a disability like that. Even if not, she doesn’t want the position. I imagine it’s naive youth and maybe, one day, she’d grow into it, but I don’t have the time to wait on a maybe and I’m most certainly not forcing this onto a child who doesn’t want it. But this must be a dream come true for you, right?”

Wulfric had to reel in his anger, jaw tensing. Must be nice, if it were a dream come true, but he suspected it wasn’t.

“Come!” Gale, where now? “You must meet Nazaire!”

“Nazaire?” Wulfric was led forward roughly once more.

“Our family’s magician! He came to work for us when I was a little younger than you are now, and as you are a Karolis, he will have to serve you as well. And no doubt he will!” Louvel laughed once more, unaware he was grating on his son’s patience.

They found Nazaire in the library. He was dressed in modest finery, wearing the family crest on his breast pocket with his short hair brushed back, and spectacles that rested on his nose.

With how loud Louvel was being before they arrived Wulfric wasn’t surprised the man was already standing in front of the table stacked with books, on his way to the door to greet them.

“My Lord, how may I be of service to you?”

Wulfric stopped listening to the conversation as he met the Magician’s eyes. They were a hauntingly familiar, brilliant blue. Those glowing circles stood out so well in the dimly lit-

His back getting slapped jolted him forward away from Louvel, before staggering right back to put distance between himself and Nazaire.

“Young Lord, are you alright?” Nazaire tried to help stabilize Wulfric by grabbing his shoulder, but his hand was quickly knocked away with a smack.

“Don’t touch me!” Wulfric snarled.

Nazaire blinked in surprise. “Of course, my Lord, you just seemed like you were about to fall.”

“I don’t _care_!” Wulfric snapped.

“Whoa, whoa,” Louvel stepped between them, glancing towards Nazaire who gave a confused shrug. “What is going on, my boy?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Wulfric snapped, his eyes not leaving Nazaire’s.

Nazaire genuinely seemed concerned before his eyes narrowed suspiciously at Louvel. “Did you give him the tour?”

“Of course!” Louvel boasted, puffing out his chest.

“Before you allowed him time to adjust and rest?”

“Oh come now, this sort of thing is an adventure to youth!” Louvel clapped a hand to Wulfric’s back, who scarcely registered it.

“Lord Louvel, he’s clearly overwhelmed. It may be best to show him to his quarters and allow him to rest before you plan to cart him off on any more adventures.” His gaze softened, noting Wulfric’s heaving chest. “Perhaps have some tea delivered to him to help his nerves. I imagine being uprooted from all that you’ve known must be quite a lot to experience.”

For the first time since he arrived Wulfric spotted a frown from Louvel as he glared at the Magician who calmly folded his arms behind his back. “He’s fine, Nazaire.”

“Lord Wulfric, would you like me to escort you to your quarters for a rest?” Nazaire brushed Louvel off, ignoring the indignant look across the Lord’s face.

“No- I’ll find it-” Wulfric managed, finally tearing his eyes off Nazaire as he ducked from his father’s hold and fled the room.

 _Those eyes_ \- he swore he could still see them, feel them watching his every move. They always felt so unnatural but so beautiful in the cruelest of ways. The sight of a servant who fearfully ducked away from him brought him back enough to try to reel himself in. He couldn’t lash out here, not now.

“Wulfric!” Louvel waddled, quickly catching up. “What’s gotten into you, boy? The way you’re acting you really could hurt someone.”

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Wulfric snapped, leaning away from him. A partial lie.

“Maybe not intentionally, but, well, it’s fine. You’ve met Nazaire so now you know him by appearance.” Louvel paused at Wulfric’s angry and confused look. “... You could hurt Nazaire.”

Wulfric searched Louvel’s face for any hidden answer.

As the silence grew between them, Louvel sighed, rubbing his face. “I see your useless mother taught you nothing.” Ignoring Wulfirc’s look, Louvel held his hands up. “It’s alright, we can get this fixed easily. Let’s get you to your room and get you fitted into something nice and proper for dinner.”

Wulfric didn’t argue as he allowed himself to be led off to his room. Louvel called it modest, but it was still insanely lavish in Wulfric’s mind. It was more like a small apartment, with a small study and private washroom attached.

The study alone was the size of his old home.

A servant was summoned after Louvel left him. He had been joking and talking but Wulfric had spaced it out. He was incredibly unsettled by those eyes, that jaw line, that complexion-

Trying to shake it off, he stormed into the bedroom, hesitating when he saw the washroom open, where the servant was running a bath for him. Deciding to ignore them, he went about pulling what little items he owned out of his bag so that he could find a place for them. It was supplies he used many times on the run in the city: A fine blade he had stolen off one of his mother’s johns, his old coin purse, a few extra odds and ends he used for his hair.

His hand brushed something soft in his bag, startling him before he properly pulled it out.

His heart felt like fingers were digging in deep as he looked over the teddy bear. Surely it had been a mistake…? No, Yvette wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t let this thing out of her sight if she could help it.

It was so ragged, worn thin in areas she tended to cuddle it. It could probably use a good wash, and it was missing its nose and an eye.

He struggled to swallow as he carefully held the bear close, his body shaking uncontrollably, his neck hurting from the tension as he struggled to keep everything bottled up.

“My Lord?”

The servant was done drawing the bath.

“The bath, right?” He felt distant, not fully here. It felt like a twisted dream he couldn’t make sense of. Like he was floating everywhere except the ground he could feel beneath the soles of his shoes.

“Yes, my Lord. There is clean linen for you as well.”

“That’s all I need, thank you.”

The click of the door acted as a gun at a starting line. Once the door was shut, tears started to spill that he couldn’t stop. He clung to Yvette’s bear as his only line to anything decent and comforting and familiar in this strange world.


	4. Chapter 4

The day had proved stressful for Wulfric, whose appetite was only stimulated by the grumbling of his empty stomach. The food was much too rich, leaving his stomach threatening to revolt further.

His father had fully intended to abandon him as an infant. Edith had ensured that Wulfric had been told that Louvel knew of his existence early on, but had no intention of doing anything about it as it looked bad on the family. Wulfric had not expected a warm family reunion, nor was he under any delusion Louvel cared. He’d heard the way Louvel spoke of Melissa fondly, and how many times the man had used her for carnal pleasure, and it left Wulfric sick.

He couldn’t stand the man.

“I’m surprised you’re not trying to eat us out of house and home, given your upbringing,” Edith’s snide remark was met with a defiant glare before Louvel interrupted the two.

“Speaking of how he was raised, Edith, he is unaware of The Obligations.”

Edith scoffed, delicately lifting her wine to her lips in a show. Wulfric noted how she never broke eye contact with him, maintaining a steady glare while she carried on her conversation with her husband. “Why am I not surprised you sought something without a bit of sense. I imagine it was the only way to scratch that itch?”

Wulfric tensed, grabbing his own water for a drink.

Louvel brushed aside the jab with a chuckle. “Well, that is why I want _you_ to teach Wulfric how to control his power.”

Edith’s eyes widened at Louvel as Wulfric choked on his water. “I beg your _pardon_?”

“Who better to ensure a proper education for the boy than you? I don’t know what else he may be missing, so you can be in charge of that.”

“I will _not_!” Edith snapped, setting her wine down roughly enough a bit splashed out onto her hand which she glared at before getting a napkin to clean herself. “Hire a tutor - at least one party will end up richer for the time spent.”

“You cannot just hire a commoner to teach the intricacies of our talents, my dear,” Louvel mused, eyeing his son who finally could breathe.

“You could teach me,” Wulfric didn’t want to be left anywhere alone with the old bat.

“Nonsense, I have far too much to do!” Louvel merrily laughed.

Wulfric’s brows furrowed, bitterly recalling how, by the man’s own account, he had hardly anything to do.

Ariane, who had been silent with her head down during the whole meal, finally spoke up. “I could teach him.”

Edith’s cackle caught both children off guard. “Ariane, dear, while I trust you are more than capable of teaching something as lowly as _Wulfric_ , you are far too busy with your own studies.”

“But I could teach him in the mornings before-”

“I said no, Ariane.” Edith’s voice hardened, causing Ariane to retreat from the conversation with a quiet apology.

Wulfric frowned. “I don’t see the problem with her teaching me.”

“Her time is far too important to waste on such trivial matters. She has a very important future to be preparing for, after all.” Edith dismissed.

“You mean as bait to strengthen the family business instead of heiress?” Wulfric snapped.

Edith’s sharp intake of breath made Wulfric tense up. He mentally readied himself to react for the inevitable strike. Though the table had put some distance between them, there were plenty of things to throw.

“I see Louvel is filling your head with silly ideas. A boy like you could never assume the position.” She lifted her wine again, briefly looking away as a cruel smile danced across her lips. “Why, I’m sure a young man of your breeding and profession can’t even read or write, hm? I suppose you’d have no need of it.”

“Can Ariane?”

Wulfric hadn’t expected the splash of red wine in his face. He blinked down at his soaked attire. What was the purpose of that? What was it supposed to hurt?  
“Listen here, you grubby little worm, I’m going to-”

“Edith!” Louvel shouted, trying to startle his wife into silence.

“-have you strung up and-”

“Edith, calm down!” Louvel finally rose to grab his wife as she leaned over the table, pointing at Wulfric.

Wulfric watched as Louvel and Edith began arguing, still surprised by the wine. He was barely paying attention.

 _Oh, right, it was red wine. This will stain._ Was that how the upper class fought, by wasting time and money? If you had a lot of money it didn’t make sense to hit there because what damage was it really going to do?

Louvel and Edith moved their argument into the hallway, leaving Wulfric and Ariane alone at the table.

“No, I can’t.” Ariane finally spoke up.

“You can’t what?”

“Read or write.”

“Oh.” Wulfric fell silent, picking at his sleeve for a moment. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t take offense. It’s true after all,” She smiled a little. “I’ve never heard anyone stand up to mother like that.”

“Your mother is an over ripened bitch.” Wulfric huffed.

Ariane gasped, surprised.

“Too much?”

“S-she’s still my mother…”

“Right. So you don’t want me to insult her?”

Ariane fell silent, picking at her food thoughtfully. “... I do think she is being mean to you. But, perhaps, nothing so vulgar?”

Wulfric blinked, confused. “You’re supposed to strike hard when you strike, even if it’s just words.”

“Oh no, you don’t want to do that. You might offend the wrong person.”

“What, they’re gonna beat me?” Wulfric chuckled, amused at the thought of Edith trying to throw down with him. He was pretty sure he could take her.

“No- well- yes. But not them, themselves. Or worse. You’re not above being put in a dungeon if you upset someone the Royals like.”

Wulfric paused. He knew of, and had seen glimpses of the Royal Procession in town, but it never occurred to him the upper class might have any access to the Royals. It made sense they had connections.

A change of topic seemed better. “Why did she throw wine on me?”

“To try to humiliate you. Appearances are everything, apparently.”

Wulfric lifted his brows before picking at his drying hair. “I see… I guess that makes you pretty invulnerable to such things, huh?”

Ariane’s eyes narrowed as she considered the options. “I… I suppose? Just because I cannot see anyone doesn’t mean they cannot see me.”

“I meant more like you couldn’t be embarrassed about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Wulfric paused to consider his thoughts a little better. “Because you can’t see their faces. You can’t see how they would judge you. Sure, maybe in their voices, but it’s less to take in, I think?” He knew how powerful a look could be, even in silence.

Ariane hummed thoughtfully, her head tilting a bit in consideration. “I see. I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t considered it before, so I suppose it’s never bothered me. I’m not even sure how to imagine what a judging expression would be.” She giggled a bit, cutting herself short as she went red and went back to her meal.

Wulfric smiled a little at her giggle before he got up and walked around the table, taking a seat next to her. “Let me have your hand.”

Ariane blinked before offering her right hand to him.

Wulfric gingerly took it, raising it to press against his face and gave the most exaggerated frown he could manage. “Go ahead, feel.”

“Wh-what?” Ariane laughed, feeling a big ridiculous. She accepted the offer and turned so she could use both of her hands to feel Wulfric’s face. She stifled her giggles as she explored, as if she were trying to mute her enjoyment.

“Have you never done this?” Wulfric kept still when not intentionally changing his expressions for her.

“Maybe when I was a child, but definitely not that I can remember.”

“Never your own face?”

“Oh, well, that’s a little different,” Ariane giggled again, this time not stopping herself. “You’re still wet, by the way.”

“Yeah, I haven’t really done anything about it. Knowing why she did it, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. Besides these clothes are spares, Lord Karolis is getting me fitted or something, I guess.” Wulfric huffed a little.

“You.. don’t call him father?” Ariane’s hands paused, lingering on his cheeks.

“Why should I? He didn’t raise me.”

Ariane didn’t have an answer for him. Instead she traced her fingers along his face again, noting his expression felt like it had melted away to nothing. “I’m surprised this isn’t strange for you.”

“Eh, I have a baby sister. She’s very touchy so I guess I’m used to it.” Wulfric flinched slightly at the sudden pain in his heart. Poor Yvette, was she okay? It hadn’t even been a day and this was excruciating.

“Wulfric?” Ariane’s fingers lingered on his forehead.

Wulfric moved her hands away gently. “It’s fine.”

Ariane bit her lower lip, seeming thoughtful before she gave a small nod. “You know, if your mother can read, we can send a servant with a letter? So they know you’re okay?”

“I… think I’d like that.”

The doors slammed open and Edith’s ear splitting voice pierced their ears.

“ _Ariane Karolis what do you think you are doing?!_ ”

Ariane snatched her hands away from Wulfric as the color drained from her face. “N-nothing, mother!”

“I was just letting her feel an expression, you harpy!” Wulfric snapped. The ache in his chest had been quickly replaced with anger.

Edith grabbed Ariane fiercely by her arm and forced her out of her chair. “You will go to your room this instant!”

“Hey-!” Wulfric moved to get up, before Edith shoved a perfectly manicured finger in his face.

“You! If you _ever_ lay your filthy hands on my daughter again, I will see you skinned alive, do you hear me?! Who knows what diseases _your kind_ carry! And what licentious behaviour were you hoping to encourage with your touch?!”

The resulting backhand from Wulfric resounded across the room.

Ariane was frozen, terrified, and uncertain what just happened.

Edith stood in surprise, slowly touching her cheek.

Louvel was quick to interfere before the shock wore off. “Now, now! I think that’s enough for one night! Ladies, why don’t you two retire for the evening? Come along now,” Louvel grabbed Wulfric’s shoulder, forcing him away from Edith and Ariane. He encouraged the young man out the door first.

Once in the hallway Wulfric pulled himself away from Louvel’s grasp, marching angrily away from him. Louvel scampered to keep up.

“Now, Wulfric-”

“Don’t.”

“I understand why you are angry. Edith is just taking this all very hard, but she can be reasoned with!” Louvel managed to catch Wulfric’s arm to encourage him to stop walking, though Wulfric yanked his arm out of his father’s grasp. “You just need to play her game!”

“No, I don’t! I’ll never be good enough for her, for _anyone_ like her! Why did you bring me here?!” Wulfric snapped.

“Because Ariane can’t do what I need her to, she’s not suited enough for the role!”

Wulfric frowned but stepped away, crossing his arms angrily.

Louvel tried to inch closer, folding his hands as if to plead. “You, on the other hand- my boy, you have quite the spirit!” As Wulfric looked away, Louvel positioning himself directly in front of Wulfric’s gaze. “I know this is hard. I can’t imagine what must be going through your mind right now-”

“How about leaving me alone for starters?” Wulfric snapped. “I don’t want to be used in your sick little game! Why should I care how you’ve let things go to shit!”

“I’ll pay you!”

Wulfric scoffe. “What do I need money for if I’m living here?”

“But your mother could use it.”

Wulfric slowed to a stop.

Louvel smiled, pleased to have finally found a hook. “Five gold a week. You can spend it or gift it however you please, it’s yours to do with as you will. Just stay here, learn what you need to learn, and you’ll have no more worries.”

Wulfric picked at his sleeve again. Five gold pieces would cover the weekly payday and more. His mom wouldn’t have to put herself to the mercy of sick perverts to make ends meet. Yvette wouldn’t have to starve. Maybe- maybe they could save up and move out of the slums, mom could get herself a respectable job. She knew how to read, that gave her a bit of an edge if she got the opportunity.

“I… I need to think about it.” Wulfric managed, not turning to face his father.

“What’s to think about? It’s a great deal! It’s certainly more-”

Nazaire, who had been standing by the door at the end of the hall for a while now, interrupted Louvel. “Let him think about it, my Lord. He has had a rough night and it may simply be too much right now.”

Louvel frowned, glancing back nastily to Nazaire before he sighed. “Very well. We can discuss this further later, Wulfric, but the offer is on the table.” Clearing his throat and smoothing out his shirt, the man forced an award winning smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wife to calm down.”

Louvel turned back towards the dining room leaving Nazaire alone with Wulfric in the hall.

“Would you like me to have anything sent to your room, my Lord?” Nazaire inquired.

“ _No_ ,” Wulfric snapped before marching away to find his room. He needed to be alone. No, he needed to take his anger out on something. Today had officially been just too much, but hopefully after some rest, tomorrow would be just a fraction better.

* * *

Wulfric’s sleep was fitful and restless. He had hoped he would pass out after taking his anger out on one of the pillows but that hadn’t worked. He had tossed and turned all through the night, until he could hear the servants making themselves busy with the daily work.

He regretted coming to breakfast. Edith was in top form, her constant complaining grating on his ears. He had been ignoring her, picking at his breakfast while deep in thought. He didn’t want to be used by Louvel, but he certainly didn’t want to bend to Edith either.

He especially did not want to work with Edith. The hag lied like a rug - she’d told him that Ariane was ill, when he had heard the yelling well enough the night before to know better.

When it came to Ariane, who so far hadn’t done anything wrong, it felt as if she had gotten the short end of the stick in life. He felt for her, she reminded him of Yvette in many ways.

Fine. For Ariane’s sake, he’d play Edith and Louvel’s game.

As Edith began to yell at him for not paying attention like the simpleton he was, Wulfric interrupted her. “My apologies, Lady Karolis. I was out of line last night.” He fought to keep his face straight at the puckered face the old bat made in her surprise. “I was brash and not thinking clearly. I will do better.”

Edith took a long moment to overcome her shock, clearing her throat and sitting more upright. “I see.”

“I do ask for your forgiveness,” and Wulfric bowed forward carefully, even drooping his head.

Louvel was pleasantly surprised at the complete shift in behaviour. Edith, meanwhile, sighed heavily. “Very well, I accept your apology. You understand, however, that any further outbursts like that will not be tolerated?”

 _The hypocrite_ , Wulfric through bitterly, but nodded his head once. “I understand.”

“Does this mean you accept my proposal?” Louvel all but beaming in his glee.

Wulfric nodded, ignoring Edith’s suspicious look.

“Proposal?”

“Nothing for you to worry your head about, my dear. But see? He is more than willing to behave, wouldn’t you please teach him?”

Edith sighed, closing her eyes as she carefully cut her sausage on her plate. “Very well, but I want him to be tutored in all his academic fields. I have enough to contend with for Ariane’s education.”

“Of course, my sweetest,” Louvel cooed, though Edith brushed it off, clearly still mad at him.

Good, Wulfric would play their games and partake in their rules, and he was going to _win_. He had already gone toe-to-toe with some of this city’s most dangerous and vile people, one old crone too high up on her pedestal was nothing compared to them.


	5. Chapter 5

Ariane held her stinging cheek as tears welled in her eyes. Mother had never struck her like this before.

“You are forbidden from ever going around that boy, do you understand? Or I will send you off to the Anmain Nunnery!” Edith shrieked, giving Ariane a hard shake.

“Mother, please! I won’t, I swear!” Ariane cried. She wasn’t even sure which room she’d been taken to. Wulfric and Father left the dining hall after Wulfric slapped her mother. And then Edith dragged her off somewhere else in the house.

Edith finally released her, letting Ariane fall to the floor, as the girl struggled to stifle a sniffle. “You had better,” Edith sneered, before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her. 

Ariane could hear her mother calling for Nazaire. Once she was out of earshot, Ariane sobbed, hiding her face into her knees and gripping her skirts so hard her fingers hurt.

She shouldn’t have accepted his offer to examine his face.

It was improper for a young woman to touch anyone outside the family.

But he was her brother, couldn’t she treat him like her family?

Why did her mother hate Wulfric so much?

It wasn’t his fault that Father was unfaithful!

Father used to allow Ariane to seek out physical comfort. So did Mother. Nazaire never seemed to have dissuaded her, but she couldn’t remember why she stopped doing it.

And Anmain Nunnery? Why would Mother threaten to send her away?

 _She really shouldn’t have touched him_.

Ariane froze when she heard the door open. Was it Mother? Would she be hit again? Crying wasn’t lady-like, Mother always said how ugly it was.

“Oh, my lady…” Nazaire’s voice sounded like his heart ached, and that filled her with shame. She buried her face against her knees, trying to stop her body from trembling, from the tears flowing, but everything felt like a dam had broken with no way to repair it.

Nazaire’s hand on her shoulder only made her feel worse. The fear was too overwhelming for Ariane as she sobbed through her teeth with her jaw clenched so tight it hurt more than her cheek did. Nazaire’s hand on her shoulder adjusted til she felt his arm across her back, leading her to lean against him.

Ariane reluctantly pressed her face against Nazaire’s coat, clutching the fabric tightly. Her body shook as she inhaled before finally caving to her emotions, sobbing with enough force it racked her body. She didn’t know how long she hid there and cried. She scarcely noticed when Nazaire started humming an old lullaby that she’d heard since she was a child in an attempt to comfort her. She felt light-headed and exhausted by the time the tears stopped.

“There, there… do you wish to talk about it?” Nazaire asked, gently brushing the hair out of her face.

“Why- why is she so angry?” Ariane whimpered, pressing her face back against his fabric once she felt he was finished fixing her hair.

“She is hurting quite a bit, but unfortunately she… isn’t handling it well.” Nazaire said with a soft sigh, gently patting her back. “She shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.”

“I shouldn’t have touched Wulfric,” Ariane responded defensively with a hiccup.

“No, Ariane,” Nazaire held her tighter, “You should be allowed to touch your family if they are receptive to it. You already are missing one sense; she should _not_ force you to not use another.”

Ariane fell silent, losing herself in her thoughts. When had they stopped encouraging her? Her father used to let her hold his hand on walks, or had Nazaire carry her. Her mother still allowed her to hold her arm from time to time but that was because Edith didn’t like Ariane using her cane in front of certain types of company. It gave them a ‘clear target’, according to mother. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother held her out of genuine encouragement.

“When did Mother stop loving me?”

Nazaire stiffened before he embraced tighter. “My dear, she never stopped loving you. I believe her love for you is making her so reckless right now. She is desperate and lashing out at the wrong people.”

Ariane nodded slowly but wasn’t sure if she believed it. Her mother had become colder, harsher, and far more strict in the past four years. Maybe it was to teach her how to carry the burdens of the estate, her father’s business, and eventually running a family? Most of which she didn’t want. Maybe she really _was_ unsuited for the position as her father feared.

“Why is she, then?” Ariane asked weakly, finally lifting her head from Nazaire’s side to try to right herself. She carefully attempted to smooth her hair back before trying to dry her cheeks with the inside of her dress sleeve.

“I…” Nazaire hesitated long enough Ariane could hear him take a controlled, deep breath. “I’m afraid I don’t know. Other than my own mother, my wife, and Lady Karolis, I’m afraid I don’t have much experience of why a parent would do such things.”

Ariane sniffled, finally feeling like she had things in order. “Would you do such things?”

“No, never,” Nazaire’s firm voice wavered, “so long as I was not Obligated to.”

“Would… someone ask a Magician to do that?” Ariane didn’t like the silence that fell and nervously began to pick at her dress sleeve the longer it went on,“You don’t have to-”

“No, it’s alright,” Nazaire assured softly, adjusting his sitting. “Yes, there are those who would order heinous crimes of us, even against our own, should they desire it.”

“I-I knew you could be used as a weapon, but I never thought-” Ariane felt her chest tighten and breathe grow short. “I mean, I’ve heard rumors, but I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Nazaire shushed gently, patting her back softly. “I imagine the rumors you know involve the King when he was a prince?”

Ariane took a sharp breath and held it, trying to calm herself. “Y-yes…”

“Those were no rumors, at least not in the original tale. The King did turn his Court Magician against another Noble, the Ardeleans, claiming they had plans to betray the crown. He demanded their Magician, as proof of their loyalty. Instead they fought, and the Noble finally lay slain, but the Court Magician succumbed to her wounds as well. The King forced the Ardeleans’ former Magician to take her place.”

The longer Nazaire spoke, the harder and more firm his words became as if reciting them rather than genuinely thinking on them.

“And they were related?” Ariane asked softly.

“They were, yes.”

Silence fell between them as Ariane wrestled with her next question.

“...Did you… know them?”

Nazaire’s controlled inhale spurred Ariane into guilt and doubt. She shouldn’t have asked, she didn’t need to be prying into his private life, she should correct herself before-

“They were my children.”

-the words stung as she involuntarily flinched. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, I should-”

“Shh, it’s fine,” Nazaire gently led her to rock back and forth ever so slightly. “You were quite young when it happened, but it’s nothing to be sorry over. I’ve had many years to come to terms with it, and it’s why it is most important for you to be mindful of your words and intentions involving Magicians.”

Ariane sniffled hard, feeling uneasy in her stomach from the whirlwind of emotions. “R-right…” She heavily sighed and scrubbed roughly at her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears. “I’ve only ever heard of the three Magicians… so it’s true there is only you and the Court Magician left?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about the fight?”

Nazaire chuckled softly, “Because I rather remember the good years, and felt perhaps you would enjoy the tales of those happier memories.”

“I see,” Ariane softly picked at her skirts, “and your wife is well?”

“Quite well. I visit her when I can, and she is living quite peacefully.”

Ariane noted he didn’t say where and felt her heart sink. “That’s wonderful,” she mumbled, becoming lost in the textures of her skirt.

“She’s not a Magician,” Nazaire clarified, “and has been given a very nice secluded home away from such troubles by Lord Karolis.”

“Oh?” Ariane tilted her head just slightly.

“Oh yes, we met in the market after she bravely pitched fish heads at your father for trying to get up her sister’s skirts. One, in particular, bounced right off his head and I remember how the muck stuck his hair to his face.” Nazaire chuckled a bit before giving a soft, dreamy sigh, “how I fondly remember her chasing your father up the street with colorful words not fit for a young lady, but they burned into my heart. I couldn’t get her out of my mind from that day forward, and sought her company every chance I could after that.” Nazaire’s tone brightening made Ariane smile. 

“Eventually, when I wanted to propose, I had to make a deal with your father that he would never order me to hurt my own family. He agreed to it, but because of my… place in life…” Nazaire hesitated for a moment, “well, at any rate, you are old enough perhaps we can arrange an opportunity for you to meet her.”

Excitement and hope washed over Ariane as she sat slightly more upright, “Oh? Could I?”

Nazaire chuckled. “I imagine your father wouldn’t be against it. It’s your mother we may need to convince.”

Ariane’s shoulders slumped at the prospect. “Oh, she’d never let me.”

“Your mother may be busy with Wulfric soon. If she is as protective as she is acting, perhaps a day with you out of the house and away from both of them would do you all some good.”

Ariane sighed heavily, not feeling too hopeful about that. She smiled in Nazaire’s direction. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, my Lady. Now, shall I read to you tonight?” Nazaire inquired, his voice rather upbeat.

“What did mother order of you?” Ariane asked cautiously.

“I am to ensure Wulfric does not enter, and you do not leave until tomorrow when she comes to relieve me of my position. So, I can read a few chapters for you until you are ready for sleep.”

Ariane tensed at the idea of her mother returning. Her mouth felt dry as she swallowed, before licking her lips and wringing her hands nervously. “I-I see.” She hoped Mother would be calmer by tomorrow morning. “Nazaire? Do you think Wulfric is a bad person?”

Nazaire hummed a bit before he ceased rubbing Ariane’s back. She could hear him getting to his feet. “No, I believe he’s a very hurt young man who carries too much on his shoulders.”

“Ah…” Ariane fidgeted with her skirts before she moved to climb carefully to her feet. “Very well, I would like you to read to me,” she agreed.

* * *

Ariane could hardly believe that Mother agreed to Nazaire’s idea! Edith was going to be far too busy today making arrangements for Louvel, and it would be better if Ariane was safely out of the way. She had no idea what it took for Nazaire to convince her mother to let her go, but Ariance wasn’t about to question it should she jynx it.

“If anything happens to her, you know I’ll have your head,” Edith warned Nazaire.

“Of course, Lady Karolis. I will protect her with my life,” Nazaire assured her.

Ariane adjusted herself to get more comfortable on the horse’s saddle. They brought a basket for food, which to her understanding, was in one of the saddlebags. She had initially offered to hold it, but Nazaire insisted it would be easier this way. She relented, trusting in his experience.

He wasn’t wrong, either, because Ariane had underestimated how long it had been since she had gone horseback riding. Having one’s world rock and move outside of one’s control was both terrifying and thrilling. Ariane couldn’t help but giggle and gave little surprised gasps as the pace changed up, depending on how Nazaire directed the horse.

Ariane had almost forgotten by the end of the trip that they were visiting Nazaire’s wife, having been wholly enchanted with all the things she could feel and smell along the way.

“There it is,” Nazaire said. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. She may greet us on the stoop if she sees us coming.”

“Are you sure she won’t mind meeting me?” Ariane asked, suddenly becoming aware of her position as Noble, gripping the bit of the saddle where her hands currently lay.

“Oh, she has heard many stories of you,” Nazaire chuckled warmly. “It’s your father that she’d probably chase off the land with a broomstick.”

Ariane felt mean for laughing at the thought, but perhaps it was because it sounded so ridiculous. Still, despite his assurances, she was nervous. She could feel that anxiety even as he helped her down from the horse and handed her cane to her. Once she was steady, Nazaire carefully led her up the stone path to the house.

“Nazaire!” A happy cry came from further ahead. Ariane could pick up the crunch of loose stones as someone was running up the path towards them. “Oh, my goodness, what have you brought? She doesn’t _look_ to be a wayward child.”

Ariane smiled in the direction of the slightly feminine voice and carefully curtsied the best she could while holding onto Nazaire’s arm. “A pleasure to meet you, I am Ariane Karolis.”

“No,” the woman gasped, “a man like Louvel wouldn’t have been able to have such a cute girl like you.”

“She takes after her mother,” Nazaire assured gently, but with a kindly tone. “Ariane, this is Georgeta, my wife.”

Ariane had a lovely day out. Georgeta was kind, if a bit rough with her word choices. She never hid if she disliked something, and Ariane’s father seemed to sit at the top of the list. Ariane heard tales of the couple’s adventures together, and how Georgeta joked Nazaire had to beg her to marry him (well, Ariane assumed she’d been joking, Nazaire had been laughing). It was a truly unique experience to be around someone so open and unafraid of what others thought of their emotions. Her confidence was endearing.

When it came time to leave, Ariane didn’t want to go, but knew she had to or her mother would more than likely punish Nazaire. Georgeta promised, should Ariane want, she was free to come to visit anytime.

“So long as you don’t bring your father about.”

Ariane laughed softly as she was helped back onto the horse’s saddle, “I won’t, I promise.”


	6. Chapter 6

Wulfric was thrown right into his lessons. Every waking moment he spent with Edith and his tutors, unless Louvel wanted to teach him aspects of the business. Until he could get reading and writing down, his time with his father was spent learning the very _illustrious_ history of their family in far more detail than Wulfric ever cared to know.

He had no time to himself, since he passed out every night from mental and emotional exhaustion. Edith infuriated him. She strutted around and liked to puff her chest as if she were the only person that could teach him. She crowed about how much he should appreciate her efforts. He had to keep his anger in check, but honestly, it was no different than dealing with people like Oda. Those with power expected to see you hurt and to control you. The more you play their games, the less trouble you got in until you could find a way out.

The most confusing classes were about the Obligations. He was not allowed to make commands, as his power was too dangerous and could hurt people. He was forbidden to speak to Nazaire until he showed he could control himself and his emotions, which suited Wulfric just fine. Those glowing eyes haunted him at night.

Why _did_ they glow like that? He'd only seen it twice before Nazaire.

Not that Edith would listen to any of his bloody questions, leaving him frustrated and feeling he was making no progress except in letters and numbers.

It was all worth it when a week had passed, and Louvel pressed five gold coins into his hand as per their arrangement. It would be Wulfric's only day off for the week, and he intended to use it. He packed up his bag, swung by the kitchen while no one was in to grab some fresh bread, a bit of cheese, and vegetables before bolting out the door for the slums.

Yvette was playing in the small street between the tightly packed, disheveled homes built of scrap and held together however was best to protect against the weather. She was with some of the neighbor's children, laughing with their sticks and running around a rain puddle leftover from last night's storm.

Wulfric dipped to scoop Yvette up from behind, which caused her to scream out.

"Yvette!" Wulfric laughed as he turned her so she could see him.

Yvette's eyes widened before she struggled to cling to Wulfric while beginning to wail.

Wulfric wouldn't hide his smile as he embraced her tightly. _She was okay, thank the Saints, she was okay!_ Many nights had scattered nightmares of Oda finding her and taking her away for extra coin.

"Get your hands off her!" A nervous shout called. Wulfric turned to see his mom wielding her ratty broom like a weapon none-too-confidentally.

Melissa's eyes widened as she realized who she was looking at. Wulfric knew how much he had cleaned up. He was beginning to gain a bit of weight thanks to proper meals on the regular. He was still thin, but he was already looking so much healthier, especially in his face. That was the biggest thing for him to get over in the mirror.

She dropped her broom and ran to her son, throwing her arms around his shoulders to embrace both her children.

"Hey, mom," Wulfric mumbled, adjusting an arm so he could embrace her tightly in turn. He could feel her jaw clenched where it rested on his shoulder.

After a bit, Melissa finally pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with her old apron. "Oh, dear. Wulfric, darling, what are you doing here?"

"I came to visit. Let's go inside, I have things," Wulfric encouraged, leading them in.

Wulfric attempted to put Yvette down, but she refused to let go of his shoulders, so instead he removed his pack before he'd sit, letting Yvette stay in his lap. His mom sat down next to him, her fingers picking over him in awe of the clothing.

"You've changed so much."

"It's only been a week mom," Wulfric chuckled. "Do I look that different?"

"You do, you look well taken care of." Melissa's eyes downcast, unable to hide the guilt.

Wulfric took a deep breath before he grabbed his bag. "I have gifts," and he pulled out an apple, handing it to Yvette.

Yvette's eyes lit up, looking at her mother eagerly. After a nod of silent permission Yvette immediately bit into the apple with as big a bite as she could manage without choking.

Wulfric continued to pull the rest of the food out, passing it to his mother.

"Oh, oh Wulfric, you shouldn't-" Melissa covered her mouth with a hand to try to mask her emotions as the food piled up in her lap.

"It's fine! I don't know if I'll be able to bring it every time, but it'll help at least," Wulfric smiled. For once, he felt proud of what he was able to do. It wasn't just scraping by, it was excess.

But the bruises on his mother's wrists and her black eye made him wish he was able to get here a day sooner. Payday was yesterday.

"How much do you owe?" Wulfric asked quietly.

"Wulfric, I can't trouble you like that; we'll be fine."

Wulfric frowned and picked his sister up so she could touch the floor. "Yvette, how about you take the food and go put it up?"

Yvette accepted the responsibility, shoving the apple into her mouth further before gathering up the rest excitedly.

Once she was away, Wulfric pulled the coins out of his pocket and put them into his mother's hand. She hesitated to look down, and once she did the tears she held back finally began to fall.

"Wulfric no," she tried to push the money back into his hand, but he resisted. "You can't-"

"I get paid an allowance. I can spend it how I wish," Wulfric insisted.

Desperately, Melissa tried to get hold of Wulfric's belt so she could try to push the coins into his pocket. He attempted to turn away before grabbing her hands. "Wulfric, please, don't do this!"

"Mom, it's okay!" Wulfric lifted her hands away from his pockets, keeping them over her head. "Please! You've done so much, let me do this!"

Melissa sobbed as she hung her head. Slowly Wulfric let her hands go to hug her, letting her cry against him. Her thank-yous were mumbled and broken as Wulfric held her tightly. Yvette hesitantly joined in hugging mom in the confusion of the scene she walked back in on.

Once Melissa calmed down, they caught up over the events this last week. Wulfric explained what was going on with the estate and his plans. The five gold was more than she needed, and she couldn't flaunt it around, so he could give her three every week, two for payday and one for supplies and once he had enough saved up they could arrange to move them and she wouldn't have to pay for Oda's protection and find a proper job.

Wulfric made sure to hold his sister tight and thank her very much for her teddy bear and how helpful it has been. It seemed to make Yvette happy, and she made him promise he would take good care of it, which he agreed.

Separating was difficult, but eventually, he needed to go. With tearful goodbyes and hugs, Wulfric headed back to the estate across the city.

For the first time in a long time, Wulfric had a restful sleep that night.

* * *

The following days felt as if they were harder than the previous week. Edith's constant snide remarks of his inevitable failure served as a reminder to try to succeed in spite of her. Numbers were easier than letters, but more comfortable still was learning how to conduct and carry himself. It was all acting at the end of the day, and putting on a mask to please the world was not a skill he was unfamiliar with, just usually it was done for more nefarious purposes.

Oh, how he loathed it. To help keep calm, once in a while he snuck off down to the pub after dinner to pick a few fights. It at least took the edge off. He had to dress down for such ventures, but it was better than nothing, and it was easy to pretend to be drunk as an excuse for such behaviour from the regulars.

He managed to get out of having lunch with the family this particular day when Louvel came bounding in wishing to go to some soiree with Edith that afternoon. They would be busy, leaving Wulfric alone. Wulfric took the chance to swipe his lunch from the servants before they had even left the kitchens and went out into the garden.

It was usually peaceful out here. The gardeners worked early morning, so by the afternoon, everything was done and left it nearly empty. He found a spot near the only tree in the yard and intentionally sat on the side hidden from the back door to eat in peace. The wind wasn't too bad today, and the silence, save for nature, was enjoyable. He quietly noted how Yvette would love it out here. He could have more flowers put in for her; she loved flowers.

Planning for everything he intended to change when he took over was about the only thing keeping him sane between lessons. Assuming he _managed_ to become heir, since Edith and Louvel had continued to argue that point.

Wulfric wasn't allowed near Ariane except at meals, and even then, Edith harshly rebuked him for any attempts he made to talk to Ariane. Wulfric hated it. Ariane was the only person here who he didn’t think particularly ill of, and he wasn’t even allowed to speak to her!

His thoughts stopped wandering when he heard the back door open. He expected to hear one of the servants call for him. When it didn't happen, he leaned to peek carefully around the trunk of the tree.

It was Ariane escorted by Nazaire.

Ugh, that Magician. Those eyes were so creepy and always sent him into a nearly uncontrollable, fearful rage. At times every fiber of his being would scream to run, and others he struggled to not just reflexively punch him in those damned, glowing eyes. He thought, perhaps, he'd get used to it by now, but he hadn't. There was just something about him that kept setting him off.

Wulfric could tell Nazaire had spotted him. With an annoyed sigh, Wulfric moved to rise and gathered his lunch in the handkerchief he had carried it out here in.

"Good afternoon, young Lord," Nazaire greeted with a warm smile.

"Yeah," Wulfric mumbled, tucking his lunch under his arm.

"Would you like to join us?" Nazaire asked, looking down at Ariane, who seemed pleasantly surprised at the suggestion.

"No, I don't want Ariane getting in trouble for hanging out with me," Wulfric glanced at his sister.

"Well, that is if anyone sees you." Nazaire tipped his glasses a bit in emphasis with his words.

Wulfric frowned, glancing back at the house.

"Nazaire is just going to read. We should be allowed to listen together, like at meals?" Ariane encouraged softly.

Wulfric sighed and sat back down. "Fine, but if anyone comes out, you haven't seen me."

"Of course I haven't," Ariane smiled a little, garnering a chuckle from Nazaire.

The two settled on the opposite side of the tree, facing the house, and Nazaire read from his book. It was picking up somewhere in the middle, so Wulfric struggled to keep up with it, but it was something to distract his mind. He never had books growing up, but they heard stories told from the older man down on the corner, or the bards who performed in the market when not at the pub.

When Nazaire finished a chapter, he began to inquire of Ariane what she thought, and she would analyze it. It was an interesting process, but not one Wulfric fully understood the intended purpose of. Once the conversation eased up, Wulfric decided to speak up.

"What exactly is the Obligation?"

Ariane hesitated. "Isn't mother teaching you?"

"Sorta? I'm not allowed to give Nazaire, nor any Magicians commands as I risk their Obligations and could kill them." Wulfric explained. He knew Edith was leaving a lot out; it was more teaching to prevent a child from doing something stupid without teaching why.

"Well... I mean, yes, you could, but you could rescind the command if it is hurting them. I mean, it's better not to cause a conflict-" Ariane huffed. "She's not teaching you how to command?"

"Wulfric not knowing how to give a command puts Magicians more at risk than being left out," Nazaire pointed out softly.

"I knew that bitch was holding back on me," Wulfric growled, twisting the washcloth he used to carry his food in until his knuckles were turning white. "She thinks I'm unworthy, or too stupid, or a threat."

"You're none of those things," Ariane assured gently.

"I know I'm not! But just because I was born in the slums, no one will ever take me seriously!" Wulfric grit his teeth, his anger swelling so much he struck out at the tree. The pain brought a small hiss out of him, and he held his hand, flexing it to try to ease the pain. He had scraped his knuckles, and blood began to push to the surface.

"Are you alright, my lord?" Nazaire inquired.

"I'm fine," Wulfric mumbled darkly before gathering everything to stand up. "I gotta go."

"Wulfric-" Ariane began.

"I have tutors coming in after lunch, and they'll _gleefully_ let Edith know if I was late," Wulfric explained as he left to head back inside, ignoring any further attempts to delay him.

* * *

There was a knock at his bedroom door after the dark hour. If Edith was planning a surprise pop quiz now, Wuflric swore he was going to stab her. With what, he didn’t know, and contemplated an improvised weapon as he threw off his covers and went to swing open the door unarmed.

The glowing blue circles waiting for him in the darkness sent him back _there_. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he could swear he felt that hot breath brushing against his skin with fear sinking into his heart like a knife.

"No!" Wulfric snapped, slamming the door as quickly as he could.

It caught so it couldn't shut.

"My Lord, it's me."

That wasn't his voice. Wulfric kept the door held firmly against whoever was pushing against it with all his might. The bastard found him. He found him, he knew it, and he didn’t have anything in hand to defend himself!

"Wulfric," this time, Nazaire's voice broke through the panic much more firmly, as if scolding a child. Wulfric hesitated, bewildered eyes scanning frantically around the room. He was in his bedroom, his bedroom in the Karolis home. Not at one of Oda’s establishments. Right.

His weight shifted, and the door pushed open for the older Magician to step in. It was dark, so the most he could see were those glowing eyes.

"W-why?" Wulfric's voice betrayed his emotions, his throat tightening.

"My Lord, what's wrong?" Nazaire's voice held a level of concern as he turned away to light the lantern. Once lit, Wulfric felt the danger starting to recede. Still stiff, he glanced about the room once more, even behind himself, to ensure it was just the two of them alone.

"Did I wake you from a nightmare?" Nazaire gently offered.

"Y-Yea," Wulfric took the cover quickly, straightening his nightshirt as he mentally scrambled to recover. "What-" he swallowed hard, "What do you want?"

"I am here to deliver a message from Lady Ariane if you are willing to receive it." The older man kept his distance, folding his hands in front of him, clearly trying to appear as unthreatening as possible.

"Sure, yeah," Wulfric grumbled, rubbing his face.

"She has offered, if you would like, for me to teach you about the Obligation, and any gaps Lady Karolis may have overlooked."

Wulfric paused, his hand over half his face as he looked over the older man. "Why would you do that? I'm not supposed to be around you."

"By whose orders?"

"... Edith's."

Nazaire smiled softly. "Perhaps, but she may be intentionally squandering your potential. If this is the path you wish to take, I rather you not accidentally hurt anyone you may care for."

"Is this an Obligation?" Wulfric asked hesitantly.

"No, Lady Ariane tries not to put any commands on me. She cannot teach you herself out of fear of her mother catching on, and your father has no intention of teaching you," Nazaire's voice trailed with a bit of annoyance near the end.

"So, you just want to do it, so I don't hurt people?" Wulfric crossed his arms, crooking his neck slightly.

"The Karolis family is an extension of my own with how long I have been here, and I do have a family to look after. It would be beneficial for everyone if you understood your birthright properly." Nazaire explained softly. "So, will you accept my offer?"

"I-I don't know… I'm already swamped with all those dumb lessons," Wulfric fumbled with the mess his hair currently was.

"We can meet after the dark hour for just short lessons," Nazaire offered.

"I guess…" Wulfric agreed before huffing softly. "Fine, we'll try."

"Wonderful," Nazaire smiled, unfolding his hands finally. "Would you prefer I knock a specific way?"

"Why would I?" Wulfric grumbled, walking the man to his door.

"So I don't scare you again."

Wulfric's heart jumped, and he felt his face grow hot, glaring at the Magician. "I wasn't scared."

"Of course, the nightmare, my apologies. I will knock three times, slowly," Nazaire smiled as he stepped out into the hall. "Sleep well, my Lord. Try to think up any questions you may have from Edith's teachings, and I will fill in where I can."

"Right," Wulfric mumbled and shut his door, locking it before pressing his head against it.

His body finally began to unwind, and it ached, but he knew he was not going to be able to sleep after that.

Tomorrow was going to be rough.


	7. Chapter 7

“So, you’ve been sneaking out?” Louvel chuckled with a proud tone that made Wulfric feel sick.  
“I’m not chasing skirts,” Wulfric said, quickly trying to deflect.  
“I could hardly care what you’re chasing,” Louvel shrugged, walking to his bar for a drink. “My problem is the constable being at my door this late.”  
Wulfric huffed before crossing his arms, flinching as the movement reminded him that he bruised his shoulder. He had gotten caught by the police for the first time after a bar brawl, and he was dragged home quickly. At least, Wulfric assumed it was his due to his age since the police certainly didn’t believe that he was Karolis’ son.  
The way the constable’s smug smile washed off when Louvel confirmed his lineage at the door was worth it, at least.  
“I’m not apologizing,” Wulfric mumbled. He watched his father return with two drinks, setting one in front of him before taking a seat at his desk.  
“Well, the _polite_ thing to do is apologize,” Louvel pointed out with an amused smile. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”  
“Bar fight.”  
“That’s it?”  
Wulfric nodded as an answer.  
“You know I won’t judge you if there is something el-”  
“Gale, no- I’ve just been sneaking out to go to the bar, why’s that a big deal?” Wulfric snapped. The fights had been the only way to keep his anger in check. He couldn’t find another way to let the rage out. His pent-up wrath had gotten worse after he started Nazaire’s class three weeks ago, due in part from invasive memories he wanted nothing to do with. The rest of his rage was from Edith’s “lessons”. What Nazaire taught him made it glaringly clear Edith’s teachings were a waste of time as she made no effort to actually educate him, but suppress him.  
“Well if this is a normal thing, I need to know if I need to be taking money from your allowance to pay for anything you’re charged with,” Louvel warned through a smile.  
Wulfric sneered, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise. He needed that money to get his mother out from under Oda’s control.  
“If it’s not, I suppose I can let this one slide. After all, you just got off with a warning,” Louvel’s smile widened.  
What could he do? He needed his anger to not be tested continuously-  
“I want Edith to stop teaching me.”  
Louvel quizzically studied his son a moment. “We had an agreement.”  
“I’m fine with the tutors.” He actually wasn’t, but by comparison, they were saints. For all their haughtiness and arrogance, they were willing to do their jobs even if they felt it was going to waste. Edith was the only one who made everything so personal. He had learned far more from Nazaire than Edith had ever taught. “It’s just Edith I don’t want to learn from.”  
“Wulfric, my boy,” Louvel beamed, “I need you to keep taking her classes, so she’s kept busy. She’s gained a lot more free time now that Ariane can be tutored independently, and I need her off my back for the best interests of the family.”  
Wulfric watched Louvel down his drink before his eyes narrowed to the desk. How would it be good for the family? Unless he needed to keep Edith away. “… You’re still trying to find suitors for Ariane?”  
“Of course!” Louvel couldn’t look happier. “The sooner she settles to marry, the sooner she is her taken care of and out of the house. This frees up more of my time to ensure you’re ready to take over as head of the estate.” He picked up the glass that was in front of Wulfric to toast him before downing it.  
Wulfric frowned, rapping his fingertips against his arm to try to ease his growing queasiness. Ariane didn’t deserve to be shunted off like that. He had been trying to connect with his sister. Still, it was difficult when the only time they managed to be around one another was mealtime with the family, under the watchful eye of her harpy-mother. The best they got was hiding in the garden together for brief periods, and even then, it wasn’t much.  
“I don’t see why she needs to be rushed into a marriage; can’t everything be arranged with her still here?” Wulfric asked while attempting to reel in his annoyance.  
“Ah, here, let me show you something,” Louvel stood up and walked to the bar while waving Wulfric over. Louvel ran his fingers to opposing sides of the mantle under the bar, pressing his thumbs on the underside, which opened up two tiny pieces of wood. Once the parts were removed, a spring-loaded, inch thick compartment popped open. Louvel picked up one of the folders that rested inside and opened it to a very intricate letterhead before passing it to Wulfric.  
It had a lot of big words in it with a small script. As Wulfric struggled to read it, his father chuckled and spoke up: “It’s your inheritance, my boy.”  
“My inheritance?” Wulfric echoed.  
“Yes sir!” Louvel took the paperwork back and returned everything to its rightful place. “You will get everything; this estate, the treasury, the mines, everything!”  
“But why does Ariane need to be out of the way? If it’s your will, isn’t it already done?” Wulfric asked, eyes lingering on the mantle.  
“Yes, but her mother doesn’t know, and the longer I can put that off, the better.” Louvel sighed. “Poor thing. But you don’t need to worry about all that! Once you are heir, Ariane will be married off and out of the house, and Edith will calm down once she and I can fully retire properly.”  
“You’re going to retire?” Wulfric was quite skeptical of that.  
“Of course! What better way to enjoy the rest of your life than laying back and just enjoying everything?” Louvel laughed.  
_Like you have done most of your life?_ _  
_ Wulfric really disliked the idea, but perhaps he could find a way to convince him not to do it and, as an added bonus, get him out from under Edith’s heel. “Could you tell me more about the mines?”  
“Hm? Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. We have people in place for us, so it is all pretty streamlined.” Louvel pondered before sitting back at his desk.  
“Yes, but I should still know how to run it should something happen, or at least be taught the basics, so should something happen, I know what sort of person I need to hire to replace the one I may have lost.” Wulfric quickly sat across from Louvel, lacing his fingers together before resting them on the desk.  
Louvel considered it for quite a while, glancing from Wulfric to his own desk before he sighed. “I suppose you would need to know that eventually. Let me see, what can I teach you now,” and he began to rifle through his desk to find all relevant paperwork. “I suppose some more history would be fine, and I can teach you how to work with the paperwork when your script has gotten a bit better.”  
_Finally, progress!_ _  
_ Wulfric paid sharp attention as his father pulled open a map of their region. They were east of the Vestroen mountains. Still, their family-owned the mountain pass into a valley further south of their current position called Gelo. Apparently, all those mountains his family owned the rights to.  
“What sort of materials are we pulling out of there?” Wulfric inquired, and Louvel chuckled.  
“Oh, we take out everything. Everything has a price and we will empty those ranges out before. But the real moneymaker is this,” and Louvel pulled off his wedding ring to hand to Wulfric. It was a dark, onyx like metal with very intricate designs built-in. “We call it wolfram, and only Magicians can forge this metal out of its purest form,” Louvel proudly explained. “Because of this, many people from all over with Magicians want their hands on it.” He chuckled before slipping it back onto his finger.  
Wulfric realized he’d seen much of the material adorning the furniture in the home. He never thought much of it beyond black metal seemed an odd choice but figured it went with Louvel’s rich eccentricities - though he was not exactly wrong in that. It was still a show of wealth.  
“So Nazaire shapes it?”  
“Oh no, not Nazaire. He is from the family of Magicians that resides there. The Pasaro family have worked with this material for generations, and one thing that will make you a good business owner is knowing when not to mess with what already works. We have cousins out there, making sure things keep to that.” Louvel said with a smile, before pointing out a place on the map that had been marked. “There; that’s Rifare. Our family has done everything to keep that town as hidden as possible.”  
“So, one of our family members is in charge there?”  
Louvel nodded, proud Wulfric was keeping up. “That’s right! The Pasaros are sworn to serve us, and will do whatever it takes to keep that location safe. Not many people like going close to the Gelo valley thanks to the rumors about the Shadowlands.” He hummed thoughtfully before he flipped the map to look over something else.  
“Will I meet them?” Wulfric watched as his father seemed to be going over what looked at a bunch of rivers - or, perhaps, mine shafts.  
“One day. I meet with Zione once a year to go over everything, otherwise it is monthly shipments that come in and go through our distributors and sellers. You’ll meet them probably before you meet Zione,” Louvel switched the map back again, “and you will have to meet the whole family when you take over to renew their leigeoath, but don’t worry that’ll be a whole celebration.”  
Wulfric slowly nodded, carefully considering his next question. “Why don’t you have more magicians here, then?”  
Louvel laughed so loud, and sudden it startled Wulfric. “My boy, if anyone knew what we had in those mountains, we’d become quite a target!”  
“…No one knows we have them there?” Wulfric leaned back in his chair as he watched his father go about finding a cigar to light.  
“No one, not even your stepmother, so it’s best we keep those little details under wraps, hm?”  
“Then how do people think you get the wolfram?”  
“I only distribute the raw elements,” Louvel waved his hand dismissively. “I could probably sell things made by my Magicians, but there is still an artistic skill required that honestly, I care very little about. Let others deal with such arrangements.”  
Wulfric leaned away from the cigar’s smoke in his seat while considering things. For the rest of the morning, Wulfric worked to keep his father’s attention. Any questions about the mines were asked quickly to not give Louvel a chance to send him off. Eventually, a servant came to find out if they were having breakfast in the office, which Louvel agreed to. They had various maps out by that point, teaching Wulfric how to read the plans for digging and how to spot known problem areas.  
It was well after breakfast when another knock came, and Edith let herself in.  
“You’re late,” she addressed Wulfric, who met her disapproving look with a glare of his own.  
“Sorry, dearest, Wulfric was learning about Rifare today,” Louvel beamed, gesturing at the mess the office had become in the hours of their discussion.  
“Well we have an _agreement_ , my dear husband.” Edith snidely remarked before pointing at Wulfric.  
Blood boiling, Wulfric stood up, but Louvel quickly caught Wulfric’s sleeve. “Just one more minute, my sweet. Why don’t you go into the hallway and let me finish up this last bit?”  
Edith stared down at Louvel darkly before she spun on her heel and marched out. Once she was out the door, Louvel yanked Wulfric close.  
“Listen, as fun as this all is, be sure to not bring this up to Edith. She means well but finding anything from last night out might be too much for her nerves with all she has going on. You understand, right?”  
Wulfric nodded, and Louvel released him.  
“That’s a good lad. Now hurry along, not good to keep your mother waiting.”  
“She doesn’t want to be called that,” Wulfric reminded his father as he headed after Edith.  
“She’ll grow to appreciate it,” Louvel called after.

* * *

That night Wulfric watched Nazaire through drooping eyelids. Nazaire was covering all the usual command lessons, how to speak, how to speak _clearly_ , how to enunciate, how to talk in such a way it leaves for little interpretation but Wulfric could scarcely listen. After Edith’s scolding for him being late for lessons, Wulfric exhausted himself by focusing on ignoring her for the day. On top of that, he hadn’t actually slept in a full day and then some.  
None of the lessons stuck tonight. Instead, Wulfric studied Nazaire’s eyes as they flicked about the page he had scribbled notes on. He had managed to finally pinpoint what about Nazaire kept sending chills down his spine.  
“So, how do you get your eyes to glow like that?”  
The Magician blinked once. He needed a moment to recover from the interruption before looking over the rim of his glasses towards Wulfric. “I was born this way.”  
“So it’s a hereditary trait?” Wulfric’s tone lifted with his question. He had begun to learn about blending inheritance through one of his tutors earlier this week, and it had been about the only exciting class he had so far.  
“It is. All Magician’s eyes glow.” Nazaire invited Wulfric to come closer while he removed his glasses. “We have a ring we are born with, see?”  
Wulfric leaned as close as he dared to examine the ring around the Magician’s iris. It was a brilliant blue, which offset the near-grey hue of his natural eye color that he hadn’t noticed before.  
_Much like-_ _  
_ “Only Magicians?” Wulfric suddenly sputtered out, withdrawing from Nazaire and as he started to tap the tabletop with his fingers.  
“Yes.”  
Silence fell between them as Wulfric’s mind raced. Nazaire caught Wulfric’s hand to stop the tapping, earning himself a well-earned glare as Wulfric yanked his hand free of the man’s touch.  
“…Do you know someone with glowing eyes?” Nazaire asked carefully. His body was stiff, eyes locked on Wulfric intently.  
Wulfric scanned the man a moment before looking down at the Magician’s hand. “Yes, I’ve seen it twice. You’re the third. All of you have the same blue glow.”  
Nazaire’s deep breath caught Wulfric’s attention. “When would this have happened? Just a time frame.”  
Wulfric adjusted to tap at his arm instead, staying out of Nazaire’s reach. “One for her whole life, for a couple of years now. The other I met last year, and only a few brief times.”  
“The other you met was an adult man?”  
“…Yeah?” Wulfric didn’t like that question, and thinking about him made his skin crawl. He switched to rub his arm in a vain effort to ease the goosebumps.  
Silence fell between them again as Wulfric watched Nazaire considering something. When the older man seemed satisfied, he gave a slow sigh.  
“My young lord, I am required to inform the family when I know of a Magician, especially if one is unclaimed.”  
Wulfric’s entire body tensed before he sneered. “Or you’ll what?”  
Nazaire lifted a hand, “You are part of the family, so I am upholding my Obligation by informing you. But I will caution you that the child you know is not safe if they are not with a noble.”  
_Yvette!_  
Nazaire was quick to grab Wulfric’s arm when Wulfric gunned for the door.  
“Let go!” Wulfric snapped.  
Nazaire complied but rose to follow Wulfric. “My Lord, you cannot act rashly. If the child has not been found, then there may be time, but you need to have a plan,” Nazaire begged.  
“And why do you care?” Wulfric turned to face the old man, staring him down defiantly.  
Nazaire calmly folded his hands in front of him. “For many reasons. The biggest is I am a Magician, and I understand the weight of the Obligation. I would not ask this of any child if I were able unless I knew the child would be safe, and with this King’s history, I know they will not be.”  
Wulfric’s anger eased, but he remained cautious as he eyed the Magician carefully, searching for any signs of lying. “Why not?”  
“Because I am the only resident Magician here in Ennara; the other is Sombre’s court magician who frequents here,” Nazaire explained. “The previous Magician died being pitted against her brother in a battle to claim him from another Noble’s home.”  
Wulfric noted the pain in the man’s eyes and decided he wasn’t lying, at least not about that. So the King couldn’t find out; that should be easy. “Would she be safe here?”  
Nazaire’s eyes softened and seemed to ease at the question. “I don’t believe so. I trust your family would treat her well, but I don’t know if His Majesty would demand her out of loyalty like he did the Ardelean family.”  
“Oh… wait. So the King killed off the Magician because he couldn’t have him?” Wulfric frowned.  
“He intended to just take the Magician for himself,” Nazaire clarified. “But the damages sustained were too great.”  
“But doesn’t the King have his own Magician?”  
“He did, yes. But the Ardelean family had their own, and he suspected them of treachery.” Nazaire sighed, pulling his glasses off to rub at his nose. “It was a deplorable and needless death.”  
“That sounds… so stupid,” Wulfric huffed.  
Nazaire rubbed at his eyes for a moment, his intake of breath a little shaken before he slipped his glasses back on. “It was. Because of that, I don’t think it’s wise the child comes here,” Nazaire calmly explained.  
“But where else could she go? She and m-... they are poor.” Wulfric had some money to help relocate them, but he didn’t have much, and not a lot to sustain them.  
“Let me speak to some people I know. They may be able to safely hide them for a time until we can work something out more long term.”  
Wulfric hesitated before he gave a small nod while rubbing the back of his neck. What if he was wrong, what if Yvette wasn’t a Magician? Or worse, what if she was, and Nazaire was right about the King, or intended to hand her over?  
“Fine, I’ll talk to them about it tomorrow.”  
Nazaire’s eyes widened. “Are you not going to the Gillet’s event?”  
Wulfric could only stare in response.  
“I am curious why no one told you. Tomorrow’s event is at the Gillet estate, and the family has been invited to attend. I suppose your father wanted to spring it on you,” Nazaire heavily sighed as he fixed his glasses. “It will be at midday, and if they are going to spring this on you, I imagine they are going to take up your whole day in preparation.”  
Wulfric groaned. After he ran his hand through his hair, he began the walk towards his bed. “Of course they will. Fine, we’ll see, I’ll talk to them whenever I get the chance.” Wulfric paused at the table. “You won’t tell anyone about this?”  
Nazaire set a hand to his heart. “My Obligation is the Karolis Family must know, not how many nor who exactly. My Obligation is filled by telling you, and I have no intention of telling your parents who may take her and sell her off as they did my own children.”  
Wulfric narrowed his eyes away from Nazaire to study the tabletop. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted it, but he didn’t want to give the man an Obligation, in case their rendezvous would get found out. “Alright… I want to go to sleep, it’s been a rough day.” Wulfric waved a hand towards Nazaire dismissively before continuing towards his bed.  
Nazaire gave a bow. “Of course, My Lord. Tomorrow will be quite a trying day.” He gathered his papers up and left after bidding goodnight.  
Wulfric flopped down in exhaustion, staring up at the canopy of his bed.  
Was Yvette really a Magician? And if it was hereditary, how did she get it?


	8. Chapter 8

Yvette stretched out in the small bit of grass that grew relentlessly through the cobblestone just outside the house with a few select dandelions poking up here and there. She always tried to keep this spot clear and bring them whatever they wanted. Yvette loved them dearly with their soft, little yellow heads, that would one day become wishes!

They helped keep her company now that Wulfric was gone. She had plenty of other friends, but they couldn’t always play, since some had jobs, and others had to help their parents at home a lot or even school. Besides, the plants helped remind her of Wulfric, because she remembered being taught how to water and feed them. 

She hadn’t been awake long. It was payday again, and soon Yvette would have to go inside and hide in the wardrobe. She disliked being in it, and with Wulfric’s help, momma hadn’t been beaten by Oda, which had been fantastic. She still hated that dark wardrobe, though.

“Oh! Wulfric should be here tomorrow,” Yvette explained to her little plant friends, “and he’ll probably bring treats again. I hope he brings more apples, those are yummy.” At the mention of apples, the dandelions seemed to perk. “Oh, you want more compost? I can probably find something,” Yvette assured as she sat up to look around hopefully for any sights of garbage in the street. 

She jumped, jerking away from a man she hadn’t noticed had been crouched next to her.

“Hello!” He beamed, tilting his head. “Were you talking to the plants there?”

Yvette hesitated, glancing back at her little friends before back up to the man. He was smiling, and his eyes- 

Yvette gasped, “Your eyes are glowing!” 

The man chuckled and gently shushed her. “They are, yes. So are yours.”

Yvette stared up at the man, stunned. 

“You didn’t know that?” 

Yvette shook her head quickly. 

“Well, that’s a shame. You know, only special people’s eyes glow, and it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve met anyone with eyes like mine,” he sat down next to her. His clothing was fancy, things Yvette had seen on people in the market, or how she imagined people like Oda dressed. “So, do you always talk to your plants?”

“I-I try,” Yvette hesitated, glancing back towards her home. She wasn’t supposed to be talking to strangers, especially strange men unless momma cleared it. 

“Do they talk back?”

“Sometimes,” Yvette whispered as she began to pick at her hair. 

“So do mine,” the man smiled. “They’re always thirsty though, or hungry.” He chuckled. “I have so many pretty flowers in my garden, of all sorts of types.”

Yvette looked back up to the man after a moment. “…what kind of flowers?”

He seemed amused. “You like roses?”

“Yeah?” She had seen some at the florist’s stall, and they smelled so sweet. She remembered being able to get a petal that had fallen, but it didn’t last very long without the rest of the flower.

“We have 3 different colored roses. Red, yellow, and orange.”

Yvette sat up on her knees, “Roses come in different colors?!”

The man laughed, “Yes, they do. Would you like to see them one day?”

“Yes, please! Oh, are you here for momma?” Maybe he was one of momma’s visitors.

“I suppose that depends. I’m looking for the Drasa residence; have you heard of it?” 

“That’s momma!” Yvette announced happily. He seemed nice, too! Momma let her talk to the friendly visitors- oh, she hoped they could go see the special colored roses! 

“Oh, your mother is Melissa?” His eyes narrowed a second before closing. “I see! Such a wonderful coincidence. So I’m at the right place?”

“Yep!” Yvette moved to climb to her feet. 

“So, you know Wulfric?”

“Yes, he’s my brother!” Yvette beamed happily. “Oh, could he come to see the roses too? He doesn’t live with us right now, but he visits.” 

“I would be honored if you all would visit.” He moved to rise, dusting off his pants. “What’s your name?”

“Yvette, what’s yours?”

“Florence. Yvette, it’s a pleasure. You have such… a  _ darling _ name.” 

Yvette giggled as she attempted to curtsy, losing her balance after grabbing her skirt ends. Florence caught her shoulder to help keep her steady. “Thanks!”

“You’re most welcome. Now, will you show me the way in? I’d love to speak to your mother.” 

Yvette took his hand and quickly led the way. There was only one door in or out, and it was around the other side. Once they were at the door, she felt a slight jerk as Florence stopped her walking. 

“Why don’t you stay out here? Your mother may be a bit surprised at seeing me. I have some friends who would be happy to meet you,” and he gestured back to the backside of the street. 

Leaning around him, Yvette could see a carriage a bit up the way with some men in armor milling about. “Them?” She pointed.

Florence glanced back to check. “Yes, them. Go introduce yourself and tell the one named Marco that I would like to speak with him, please.” 

“Okay! But-” Yvette hesitated, as they were strangers, “Momma said-”

“I’ll explain to your mother it was my idea. Now, go on.”

Florence’s hand to her back encouraged her the way they had come, and she relented, heading back towards the carriage. It was beautiful! The wood was polished beneath the metal trimmings, and the horses were so decorated. 

“Stay back from the carriage,” one of the guards spoke up in warning, so Yvette stopped approaching. 

“Mr. Florence said he wanted to speak to a Marco?”

One of the other guards hesitated, glancing at the first who had spoken before walking between the tightly packed homes. 

Should she stay here or should she go with Marco? Momma should have had plenty of time to be surprised that Florence was here, right? Oh, what if they were  _ busy _ ? 

Yvette hesitated before she began back towards the house anyway. Maybe at least stick by-

“ _ Please stop! _ ” Yvette heard momma shriek. Yvette felt her feet run before she had the chance to process what was going on around the yelling. 

Shoving the door open and shooting in past Marco, Yvette found her mother on the ground, shielding herself from Florence’s blows. Her face was bloodied from her nose misshapen.

“Momma!” Yvette was quick to snake around Florence to cling to her mother’s dress. “Please, stop hurting her!” 

Florence’s face was twisted in anger, and it softened a bit at Yvette before he stepped back and took a deep breath. 

“Now, see what you’ve caused our child to witness? You shouldn’t have hidden her away,” Florence’s voice was calm, but it was composed in a way Yvette recognized from Oda, and it scared her even more. She swallowed hard and clung to momma tightly, burying her face against her. She needed to find Wulfric, he’d be able to do something. But what about momma? 

“Please, I swear I didn’t know-” 

“Didn’t know what?” Florence’s words were coming out as if he were picking each word precisely. “That she wasn’t mine?” 

Yvette shrieked when she felt her arm grabbed and was forced back away from Melissa. Florence caught her chin and forced her to look at her bloody and crying momma. 

“Look at these eyes. You mean to tell me you  _ really _ doubted who her father was?” 

Yvette cried out as Florence’s fingers dug too much into her jaw. “You’re hurting me!”

His grip lessened. 

“I’m sorry, honey. Your mother’s just made me so, so angry.” His words weren’t comforting in the least. She tried to pull away from him once, but his tightening grip on her arm made her flinch. She really needed to find Wulfric now, he’d know what to do. 

“Momma,” Yvette tried to reach for her mom. She was shaking, and she didn’t like feeling this sick, and her eyes stung because of the tears. Yvette just wanted to hide, her momma would shield her from all this. She didn’t want to leave to find Wulfric yet without momma, and it hurt her heart to consider leaving her like this. 

“Marco,” Florence stood up, twisting Yvette’s arm as he rose that forced her up on her toes with a shriek of pain. “Take her to the carriage. I still need to find out where Wulfric’s gone off to.” 

Yvette tried to pull away from Florence as Marco approached. “No, don’t! Are you going to hurt momma?” Yvette’s begging drowned out whatever her momma was pleading, but momma had come up to touch Yvette’s shoulder. 

“You have no business asking me not to take her,” Florence snapped at Melissa before backhanding her away from Yvette.

“Momma!” Yvette tried to reach for her as she was sharply yanked away. “I’ll tell you where Wulfric is, just stop hurting momma!” 

“Yvette, no!” Melissa cried out. 

Florence paused, his fist hovering in the air a moment before he dropped it. He turned to Yvette and crouched down to her level. “You know where he is?” 

Yvette nodded, trying to swallow her fear back. “He’s with his daddy at the Karolis estate.” They could all go to Wulfric, he could fix this!

Florence’s eyes searched her over as if contemplating something. 

_ CRACK! _

Florence caught himself against Marco’s armor, and Yvette looked up past him to her momma, who was shakily holding her broom. She went to swing again, but Florence caught it while moving to stand. 

“Marco, take the child. I need to finish things up here.” 

Yvette tried to squirm away, and once Marco’s arm was under her and hoisting her up, she began to thrash and scream as loud as she could as she was taken from the house. She needed to get Wulfric! She couldn’t break free of Marco’s hold though, no matter how much she kicked. 

After being shoved into the carriage, she noticed the windows were open. Once the door was shut behind her, she scrambled out the window on the opposite side. She landed roughly on the ground and heard her dress rip, but didn’t have the time to try to fix it as one of the other guards looked around the side she was on.

Yvette scrambled to her feet and ran down the nearest alleyway, hearing the guards shouting and the clash of metal on stone as they chased her. She sought every turn she could, even scrambling over some spare debris to get over a fence across another alleyway. 

She found an empty, upturned wooden crate. While she was desperate to find Wulfric, she wasn’t going to be able to find him if she was caught. Quickly she flipped the box and crawled under it, making sure to drag her skirts all the way in so nothing poked out. It wasn’t too dark inside the crate, with small beams of light forcing their way inside between the wooden slates. 

Yvette closed her eyes tightly and cupped her hands over her ears, rocking gently to try to fight against all the horrifying thoughts. She didn’t want to think of momma all bloodied up and crying, nor of Florence’s face. She really wanted to get to Wulfric, but she didn’t know how to get to the Karolis’ estate. She could ask, but who would listen to her? 

What if she ran into Oda while she was out? 

It was so hard not to cry her eyes out in that crate. Sometimes she sobbed, but she tried to stifle it with a hand. She heard a few metal steps sometimes coming back and forth in the area, but eventually, it fell quiet. 

Yvette didn’t know how long she hid there, but by the time she crawled out, she felt stiff and exhausted. Her eyes stung, and her body ached. She was torn; should she still try to find Wulfric, or go back and ask momma? She was too scared to go back, but she wanted momma pretty badly, but Wulfric could protect her too. 

Despite really wanting to find Wulfric, so much her body tried to fight her, she inched her way back towards home. Maybe they were gone, and they wouldn’t need Wulfric? The closer she edged home, the more terrified she was becoming, and the thoughts of fleeing were overwhelming. 

The carriage was still there with only a singular guard. It was enough to finally cave and try to find the Karolis estate. Any time she heard metallic steps, she scrambled to find places to hide. 

How was she supposed to do this? 

She was so scared, she missed her teddy, she missed momma, she missed Wulfric! 

It felt like there were just so many guards in the city, and she couldn’t tell the ones apart from the ones Florence had with him. 

Oh, what was she to do? 


End file.
